My Truant Pen

Guilt and dental hygiene

In most aspects of my life, I feel like a reasonably adept human being. But when it comes to dentists and dental hygiene, well, I don’t think I’ve ever emerged from a dentists office without feeling like a complete failure. I figured that this was limited to me, and that my sons would escape the scourge of dental-insufficiency. (Well, when I thought about it at all.)

Then we took Grey to the dentist, about a year ago. They were “concerned”. And a few months back, it went from “let’s keep an eye on that” to “he needs fillings – 8 of them”.

The kid only has like 20 teeth, and 8 of them have cavities? Given that his teeth are my responsibility, I once again feel like a failure. I’m pretty sure it’s from the milk he took to bed with him for the year between 1 and 2. We’ve been brushing his teeth since he turned 2, but the damage must’ve been done by then.

He got his first filling today. He did great. He also got his X-rays and did fine. He got a Bakugon as a reward. (What? You don’t know about Bakugan? They’re cool. They’re little balls — perfect choking hazards — that you throw on the ground and then they explode into robots. They’re “collectible”.)

The point of this isn’t really cavities and my bad parenting. It’s Thane. Having a second child, you find you remember much less about each stage than you think you might. It feels like you’re doing it for the first time all over again, with momentary flashback now and again to illumine a particular issue. I had forgotten how hard it was to get Grey to bed at the same time. We had elaborate rituals that included ALWAYS something to drink, music on the cd player, the mobile on, sneaking out, etc. They didn’t usually work. Even in the middle of the night it was hard to get him back to sleep.

Thane though? Thane goes to sleep easily. I change his diaper. I read him two stories. I sing to him. I pray for him. I put him in his crib and turn on the mobile because it seems like the thing to do. I close the door. I do not hear from him until I feed him right before bed. He pretty much ALWAYS goes right to sleep. I think I’ve gotten back out of bed once? Twice? in the middle of the night after he failed to go back to sleep.

Children are so different.

Even if they don’t look different.

Twoo wuv

I’ve noticed lately that my life has been a little busy. Just a touch. So I’ve decided to start getting proactive and evaluating where I spend my time to see if there are any places where I can gain efficiency without losing fun. So, for example, I don’t want to “more efficiently” play with my children, but more efficiently obtaining groceries? That I could do.

I have very, very few hobbies left. I game whenever gaming is held at my house. I possibly cook slightly more extensive meals than the minimum standards. I have this illusion that I make cards that I send to people, but in truth I think that I’ve made 4 cards in six months — and I made two last night. And I document what life is like for me with my camera and my blog posts. This latter part is really one of the more satisfying things I do. The writing part is pretty unavailable for efficiencies, but the picture part is. I have been doing pictures in a very 2003 sort of way. I’d upload them from my camera, scroll through them using a free, trimmed down picture viewing software, delete them from the directory (I usually only “show” one in four pictures), resize them (while maintaining the full size ones), write an html file containing all the links to them, including links to the fullsize picture, and then upload them to the website where I might or might not test them. I often (usually?) made a mistake in uploading the videos. My ftp software is really full of fail for massive uploads, and would often crap out before the videos finished uploading, etc.

This is all done at like 11:15 at night on a Thursday, of course.

Then the other day I thought, “Gee, maybe I’ll see if software for handling pictures has improved in the last decade.”

OMG. Why did no one tell me about Picasa before?

First I fell in love with how it managed the pictures on my hard drive. I spent a rapt hour gazing at lost images from the hard drive of my college computer, buried deep in directories called “Brenda Archive” and “Old Files 2002”.

Then I discovered the great, simple, idiot-proof retouching tools. And the way it allows you to easily make simple edits to videos, like start and stop times.

Then I fell in love with the ease of uploading. Lookee ma! No FTP software!

Then I discovered the face recognition software. If I’d had this when Mike died, it would’ve saved me HOURS scanning the archives for good pictures of him.

At this point I wondered if petitioning the Massachusetts state legislature to permit the marriage between a woman and a really great software product was called for.

Did I mention they have a very good system of permissioning?

Then I discovered the one-click integration to various photo-ordering options (you don’t wanna know my process for buying prints). It’s possible I swooned at that point. I came to with Picasa holding me by the shoulders and administering smelling salts. (Ok, not really, but close!)

As a software engineer, I’m deeply humbled. I have never in my life written anything as close to this powerful, intuitive and useful.

As a user, I’m totally wow’d.

As a mom, I’m extremely grateful that a very precious part of my life just got more fun and less tedious.

So with this tremendous buildup, I present to you:

Late Spring 2009

20 years ago today

A friend whose anniversary it is rhetorically asked where we, the audience, were 20 years ago today. This got me remembering.

I was 10, almost 11. It would have been the summer between fifth and sixth grades, I think. We would’ve been out of school by now — kids these days seem to be in classes later than we were. That winter we had moved to the house that my parents still live in. I seem to remember a good deal of reading (specifically the “Sword of Shannara” which I’d been given as a graduation present), tromping through the woods, and swimming across the lake (too cold in June). I hadn’t learned to play trumpet yet. I hadn’t picked up my love of hiking. I’d never seen or heard a baseball game. The next year I’d get shipped across a mountain pass to Jr. High. There was a freedom to summers when I was a child which I suspect will be unreproducible in my children’s lives. My mother was a school teacher, so she was off summers. I’m sure she provided childcare, but I don’t really remember being actively taken care of. I remember the freedom and the roaming.

What about you? Where were you 20 years ago today?

Dreampt of in my theology

Parenting is good for one’s personal theology, I’m sure. It removes the patina of disuse and age from thoughts that were considered settled back when one was thinking big thoughts that heady freshman year of college. Here, for example, is an actual discussion between Grey and me on my commute this morning:

Grey: Mommy, make Spiderman real!
Mommy (thinking this is a good introduction to the finite abilities of parents): Grey, I don’t have the ability to make things real. I can’t make imaginary things real.
(Silence from the back seat while this is mulled over)
Grey: OK, let’s pray for Spiderman to be real.
Mommy: Uh… you lead
Grey: OK mommy. You say after me.

Dear God
I love you very much
Please make Spiderman real and alive
I mean RED Spiderman.
Thank you.
Amen

So if you find that New York City has some unexplained sightings and crimes that go punished by a mutant vigilante, well, our God is an awesome God.

Actually, this whole thing caught me up short a little. In our creeds we say that God is all-powerful and can do whatever God chooses. But I must admit, I consider the bringing to life of fictional superheros impossible. I almost told Grey that God can’t make Spiderman real. In history, God certainly hasn’t chosen to manifest his awesome abilities in the bringing to fruition the imaginings of humans (although he’s given us amazing abilities in that regard). Can God, if God so chose, make Spiderman real? If he chose to answer this deeply faithful prayer of my son’s, what would an affirmative answer look like?

Jesus tells us that if we have faith the size of a mustard-seed, we will be able to move mountains. Grey’s faith is unbounded right now. There is no cynicism or experience telling him that certain kinds of prayers are likely to go unanswered, or to be answered in such a way that the answer does not seem to be the hand of God. He has not learned what sort of things it is that we pray for, and what sort of things seem as though they are outside the purview of the almighty.

I don’t have a pat answer on this. The limits I put on my own prayers are revealing to the limits I put on my faith. I have pared down what it is I believe God can do, at least in my subconscious, and pray accordingly.

Dear Lord,

Please let Red Spiderman be real. Thank you.

Mommy

A date – NOT the fruit

My brother (commonly known as Gospel) is living with us this summer while he does his Field Education for Fourth Presbyterian Church in Boston. The deal is this. We give him room, board, laundry facilities and an unlimited supply of sharp cheddar cheese and Dr. Pepper. In exchange, he does the dishes, mows the lawn and provides free babysitting. So far, so good.

Last night, we availed ourselves of his services.

We’ve gradually been trying out some of the local restaurants in our new home town, but with one (and then two) kids, anything with a cloth tablecloth has been past our reach. A night out is hard enough for us when we have to line up a babysitter. We do that like once a quarter. But with the babysitter problem temporarily solved… we decided to check out one of the local hot spots.

I must say that to date we’ve been underwhelmed by the local fare. The Indian Bistro (Rang) is pretty good and we’ve found a great pizza place, but Stoneham specializes in Roast Beef and Seafood shops, and mediocre Italian. Our expectations were not exceedingly high.

We went to Melissa’s Main Street Bistro. It was AWESOME. We timed it so we’d get seated about 15 minutes after curtain time at the local theater, so when we arrived we had the place nearly to ourselves (it filled back up as our meal went on). Their menu rocked. The entire thing was interesting and appealing – from drinks to dessert. The kitchen was open so you could watch them work, if you weren’t too busy staring into the eyes of your beloved. The food was really excellent — some of the best I’ve had recently. And I’d even had the foresight to bring along some conversation starter topics so we wouldn’t waste a romantic dinner talking about scheduling swimming lessons for Grey. It was a wonderful, romantic, delightful dinner. We will definitely be going back.

It was incredibly restful and relaxing to spend an enjoyable evening with the man I love. We’ve been married nearly nine years, together for almost thirteen, and he keeps getting handsomer.

Eruption

One of the primary differences between a first-born and a later-born: with your first-born, you’re excited about many milestones. With your later-born, you know better.

Last night I finally glimpsed that thing for which I have been waiting. I knew it was coming, read the signs. There was the fussiness. The drool. The gnawing. And then last night I saw the glimmer — the tiny dot of white in a previously pink expanse.

Thane’s first tooth has arrived.

A myriad things whirl through my mind — now he’ll have better luck with some solids. Perhaps the fussiness will go down a notch. I think of the troubles that I’ve started having nursing (hurts like a sonofa, and my production is tailing off – I’m pumping about 12 ounces a day and he’s drinking 18 – 20. You do the math on that one.) With teeth, that’s only going to get harder.

Dominant among the thoughts, though, is that my baby has taken one more milestone step away from babyhood and towards boyhood.

How I will miss the gummy smile!

Ikea

This weekend we had two adventures. On Saturday, we went hiking in the Fells. I love hiking in the Fells with my boys, but other than a really interesting orchid that kept popping up every five feet, it wasn’t much different from other times hiking in the Fells.

Sunday, after church, we went to Ikea. I had two stated goals for our trip and one unstated goal. First, I was in desperate need of more meatball-makings. (Ikea meatballs are one of my go-to meals for when I need to get a dinner on the table in 20 minutes that Grey will eat and the rest of us like too.) Second, Grey’s dresser is broken and he needed a new one. Thus for the stated. The unstated? I wanted a new armchair for Thane’s room. The rocker I’d purchased for Grey’s nursery had aged badly and was yucky.

It took us forever to get out of Burlington. It always takes us forever to get out of church, because we’re always happily chatting with our friends. Then we went to the Macaroni Grill, where we once again lamented the lack of dessert ravioli. (WOE!) Then we went to Starbucks because I am an addict. Then we needed gas. Then we got stuck on horrible, terrible, no good traffic on 93 just south of the big dig.

Finally we landed at Ikea and met up with Unka Matt. Thrillingly, Grey is now tall enough and potty trained enough to go to the Ikea childcare. He had a ball in the ballpit and other than getting decked in the eye very much enjoyed himself. The lady doing the check-in, however, never managed to process that Unka Matt and I are NOT MARRIED. It’s an understandable but obnoxious mistake when we go out places together.

Our first goal location was the dressers. Frankly, we didn’t really find one that was perfect. We wanted one low enough that Grey could access the drawers himself, in natural wood, that would grow with him through to college. The one we ended up getting (http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/10034189) was much wider than I was planning on, but has this lovely top that seems destined to be a window seat or a bookcase or a playspace or something. It will certainly be large enough — it might actually have some toy storage or paper storage space. He has a lot of clothes but not even he has THAT many.

Next up was my stealth-goal. When I’d come to Ikea in December, I’d nursed Thane in this chair and it had been so comfy that I was resolved to return. Actually, I’d love to have one for each bedroom. I think a comfy reading chair in the bedrooms is a good idea if you’re trying to raise readers. But first things first. It was even on sale! How could I resist!

And here it is in its natural habitat:

The new chair looks better and takes up far less room than the old rocker

And we ate meatballs and bought meatballs and somehow managed to get it in the car and stayed up too late that night assembling it the end.

Also, I put the blanket on the chair because the cats LOVE to sleep there. My housekeeper put the dragon on the back of the chair and I like it. It’s sort of a 21st century, baby-themed take on the tiger-skin rug.

I haven’t gotten the dresser set up yet. I’ll let you know. Because I know that what you want in your life is more pictures of Ikea furniture in action. Don’t worry — I aim to please!

They never cease to amaze you

My children never fail to astonish me. It seems as though both of them have taken huge strides forward lately.

Thane’s stride forward is that he has secretly turned into an eel. Incredibly strong. Check. Squirms like crazy. Check. Slimy (checks drool quotient). Check. Thane now hates to be held when he’s wide awake. He’ll turn around and around on your lap. And he’s really strong. Really really strong. He’s more hesitant about crawling than I thought he would be. With Grey, one day he learned to crawl. The next day, you were constantly running to catch up to him because he was on to new and better things than THIS dinky room. Thane, on the other hand, is afraid that he has a limited amount of crawl available and if he uses it all up… poof! Gone! So he’ll crawl an adorable foot or two to a desired toy/parent/sibling/shoe, but no further. He’s also been refusing to nap. He got up at, uh, 6 this morning. He slept for 1/2 hour on the bed with me when daddy to Grey to dance class because he refused to sleep in his crib or his swing. He’s NEVER had problems falling asleep before. Then he got maybe an hour’s nap while I worked on the lawn. Other than seconds of sleep snatched while he was on the backpack during our hike, that was it. And then he had the audacity to claim he wasn’t tired. Ha! He’s incredibly patient and focused when playing with a toy. He’ll play with one toy for a very long time. He sits happily in the middle of the living room for long stretches. Grey STILL doesn’t do that. It’s just a joy to watch him grow up.

In “things that make mom tearful” news, we pulled out his infant car seat and put in the toddler/convertible carseats yesterday. Abuela at daycare objected to the bit where his feet were hanging off the end of the carseat. SNIFF SNIFF. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S TOO BIG?!?!?!

Grey’s big exciting thing is reading. He’s never been an all-books, all the time kid. (Neither, I think, was I for all that I do love to read. That was my sister.) I remember the moment I really learned to read. I was 5? 6? It was in Bonner’s Ferry. We were driving home from the base. (It was a long drive — maybe 3 – 4 hours?) We were nearly there. A dark night. A yellow advisory sign. I’m not sure what it said — funny to remember all that but forget the word. I realized that I could read it, without help. I knew what it said. Click. And from then on, I read.

I don’t know if Grey has clicked yet. I don’t think so. He’s recognized “Stop” for like maybe 18 months now. He can write his name quite legibly. But tonight at bed time Grey read daddy quite a bit of “Hop on Pop” (with help). Grey has basic phonics. (He doesn’t have some of the letter combinations, like ‘ght’. But neither do most texting teenagers.) He can even work backwards. On our hike today we were playing some word games (simple ones like words that start with “s”). We used a different word, and he figured out what letter it started with.

Grey is requiring less and less management. He can put on his own shoes, deal with his own poop, clean up his own room and get a stick of cheese out of the fridge himself. Thane, on the other hand, is entering into the Period of Maximal Required Attentiveness. I’m not really looking forward to some of those phases. I’m totally looking forward to other aspects of them. Thane is such a JOY with his incandescent smile. To see him do his adorable little crawl towards you because he MISSED YOU MOMMY! Ah! For that, it is worth it.

Planning for the worst

In the last few weeks I’ve tackled a few of those unpleasant tasks that seem infinitely postponable. The first task was to update our wills. We actually had created wills after Grey was born, in a similar fit. But since then, my husband’s father (who was mentioned in the will) had died and Thane was born. While I’m sure those left behind would’ve figured our will out if neither one of us was around to explain it, I thought we might as well spell it out. That, and my MIL had asked for a new copy of our wills to keep in a safe deposit box down by her so there wouldn’t be any delay in her ability to take custody of our kids should something unthinkable happen.

It’s not fun imaging a world where you leave your kids orphaned. (There’s really no difference between our will and what would’ve happened if we died intestate if only one of us dies. Ok. I’m really just looking for excuses to use the word intestate. Intestate intestate intestate.) And by the time you get down to the final levels of planning, “And if we both die and she dies and all these other people die, THEN blah blah blah.” I feel glad that we tackled it.

Any interpretation of this post as a hint that you might want to do likewise, especially if I’ve bugged you to do so before and am executor of your estate, is likely accurate.

The other bit of worst-case planning wasn’t so bad. It started out with the world’s most boring shopping. In retrospect, I suspect that the folks who redid our attic for habitation didn’t get all the permits they needed. There is a bedroom in our house which is basically a fourth floor bedroom. If you can’t get out the door, it is four stories out the window. If you can get out the door but not down the staircase, it’s three stories. The attic has no built-in fire escape. So basically, if you get trapped in that room in a fire, you’re screwed.

My brother, who is living with us for the summer, is living in that fourth floor room.

So I bought a pair of these: http://www.amazon.com/Kidde-468094-25-Foot-Three-Story-Anti-Slip/dp/B000H5S96A — one for each room in the attic. This is quite possibly the most boring $120 I’ve ever spent on anything in my life. They’re bulky. They have to be high access to be useful. They’re single use. I consider it an investment in anti-regret insurance. It’s actually not quite long enough to get to the ground for that fourth floor, but I reckon it will get you close enough that the fall might result in a sprained ankle, but not death. I’m willing to take that.

(We also have one on the second floor, but there are more possible egresses from that floor. Also, a fall is in the “break a leg” instead of “lose your life” range from the second story windows.)

Having equipped the house, we staged a fire drill yesterday. This was a little for the grownups, but mostly for Grey. We trained him that if he hears a fire alarm, he’s to get down the stairs from his bedroom and get out the front door right away. I’m glad we did it. He had some questions that could’ve been trouble in a fire. “Do I need to put on my shoes?” “Do I need to wait for you to open the door?” We practiced it three times. Now, if the fire alarm goes off, he can get himself out of the house without help. I’m happy with that outcome. I also practiced crawling (with my eyes closed) to the baby’s room to get him out. I’ve heard that in real house fires you can’t see your hand in front of your face, and that it’s important to have muscle memory. Since I’m not leaving a burning house unless I know Thane is safe, this also worked well.

With a three year old, it’s not possible to go through all the permutations. (For example, I think it’s too much confusion to check for a hot door, etc.) But this seems like the best default option for if he hears the fire alarm.

With both of these things, it wasn’t pleasant confronting first our mortality and then our peril from fire. But I feel better having done so. We all have a better chance of getting out safely now if there’s a fire in our house. And if we don’t, well, at least our families will know what to do.

What have you been putting off doing because it’s no fun to think about? Rebalancing your portfolio? Updating your will? What would make you tackle those projects?

Back in the cubicle again

We’re back from Atlanta! We had a lovely week with my mother-in-law. Here are the points of greatest interest:

Thane started crawling! Real-o, trul-o stereotypical baby crawling! Right now he’s only going a tentative foot or two for a desired toy. I suspect it will transform into zippy baby very quickly. The only downside to this was the plane ride home. Babies who have just discovered how to crawl do not want to sit quietly in your arms for 2.5 hours.
Thane turned 7 months old. We’ve made it to 7 months nursing. Celebrate each victory, I say! With a coworker who just got back from maternity leave, we’re now up to a quarter of the programmers in my office being nursing moms. Heh.
Grey went to his first movie theater movie! We saw “Monsters vs Aliens” in 3-d. I think the 3-d was a bit too much for him to handle, but I thought it was awesome. He’s since insisted on being “the green guy who hits” and refuses to accept that the guy’s name is Link. Anyway, he was beautifully behaved and sat very nicely and quietly through the whole movie, so we can do that again.
Swimming with Cousin Alec in the pool. ’nuff said.

My stunning discovery for the week was that, amazingly, two young children are a lot of work even (especially?) when you are on vacation. Even the addition of another dedicated adult (grandma) it was still not quite the week of reading a novel a day that vacations used to be. I can’t wait until the boys can read.

This was also Michael’s interment. It was a very small gathering of family who were present. We buried him (ok, watched him be buried) in the National Cemetery in Georgia. It was a beautiful spot. While we were at it, we interred his mother-in-law Mildred right next to him.

Goodbye Michael and Millie — Goodbye Mike and Millie