Under the Weather

I guess it's not a mommy blog 'til you post about poop, so here goes. Consider yourself warned.

Jo's been having diarrhea since Saturday. When the pediatrician was talking to us early on about diarrhea as a symptom, we asked how we would know if he had diarrhea since breastmilk poop is so, um, liquidy. She said, "You'll know." She was right.

He is in good spirits (despite the photo; it's not from this weekend) and clearly hydrated. Let's just say the kid has good aim. Co spoke to a pediatrician at our practice today (Cakie's doctor, as it happens) who said not to worry, diarrhea can take a while to resolve for those on the all-liquid diet.

I have been under the weather as well, with similar difficulties (and Cali's sick too, can we pass this thing from blog to blog??). Thanks to the joys of state testing, I can't stay home any day this week, either. Fortunately, tonight Co made matzah ball soup and fresh bread. Perfect.

And another weather complaint: it's been raining all. day. and my weather widget suggests it's going to keep it up all week. I cannot take a week of indoor recess.

******************

I was a huge fan of the now-cancelled Li.fetime original Strong Medicine. The premise of the show: scrappy, smart-mouthed (and extremely hot) Lu Delgado (Rosa Blasi) runs a free women's clinic. When she is offered the chance to base her clinic out of a wealthy local hospital, she must work with former beauty queen Dana Stowe (Janine Turner) who treats rich women who want procedures like vaginal tightenings. Later in the series she gets to work with Patricia Richardson, who is an Army doctor. Comic relief characters include a male nurse who does tantric yoga and one of the twins from Sister, Sister. I do not still watch this show in reruns because of clever writing or skillful character development. I have my Buffy for that. No, Strong Medicine is for the involved, attentive, holistic medical care fantasy I developed in my 30s. Lu follows her addict patients into their drug dens, trolls the streets with a megaphone when there's a formula recall, goes to jail to protect her patients. A house call is just part of her regular day.

In our midwives, I have finally found my Lu. Co and I have both switched over to them for gyn care, so today I had my first appointment as their official patient. It was wonderful and despite tummy troubles and testing, I left the office in a much better mood than I'd been in for several days. How often can you say that about your gynecologist??

Midwife Strawberry didn't hurt me when she did the internal exam, said she didn't think my weight would have a huge impact on fertility, signed the medical form for the 2nd parent adoption (our regular doctor wanted my thyroid checked first; she doesn't believe, I guess, that I can gain weight all on my own without any assistance from my thyroid). Both midwives oohed and aahed over how gorgeous Jo is, and are excited for me to get pregnant (which will not be anytime soon). I love them.

******************

I also had a great conversation with Midwife Strawberry about this whole working mom thing. I've been doing a lot of thinking about my identity as a parent/mother, and how that meshes with other aspects of my identity. Specifically this: I like my job. I like to work. I don't like time spent away from Jo, and if I had my absolute "druthers," I would work part-time. (That is not a financial possibility, nor would I be effective in my particular position if I were part-time, I don't think.) I still need to be the rest of who I am, in addition to being a mother. Midwife S. said she thinks she'll be the same way. I know there are lots of moms out there who love their kids and their work, but I've had a lot of internal churning as I figured this out for myself. I've also had trouble finding other moms with whom to have this conversation, I'm not sure why.

**********************

I'll close with a Jo anecdote. He has a new favorite pasttime: grabbing an object with both hands and flapping it up and down. This works best with soft items, like burp cloths, diapers, and clothing, which he grabs whenever he gets the chance. We gave him a floppy stuffed bear for this purpose and he's been flapping it madly. I'll try to get some video up on flickr.

Spilling Up and Rolling Over

The title of this post is a lesbian joke that indicates I was born in the wrong decade. But the real news: Jo rolled over!! First tummy to back, then back to tummy, all on Monday.

Co, because she is the best, took video so I got to see his early attempts when I got home from work. He's been flopping around ever since like...well....Flipper. (We still call him that.)

Without further ado, here's the rolling boychik.

Jo's First Passover

We spent the first seder, as is our custom, with Co's "Jewish family," the B's -- the parents of her college roommate J. Co spent seders there for several years before we met. College roommate J. became Due Date Buddy, and is now mom to Leo, born four days before Jo. J. and her husband P. are also Jo's godparents ("kvaterin" in Yiddish), and we joke that the B's parents are therefore his grand-godparents.

My mom and her husband also came to the seder, the result of a sneaky yet brilliant move on my part: I asked the B's to invite them this year, thusly circumventing the knock-down drag-out fight about where Jo would spend his first Passover. (We love to go to the B's, and since my mom threw in her lot with my sister's in-laws, holidays with her/them have been tense and unpleasant at best. It's a longer story I may end up posting about next time they piss me off.) So Jo got to be with his Grandmom, we got to be with our extended B family, and everyone had a great time. I hope I can continue to be this creative with family politics. In any case, here is the sweetness of Grandmom snuggling her little guy at his first seder:

Jo looked smashing in his new bib from his Grand-Godmother:

And a bit goofy in a yarmulke:

Leo sported a yarmulke from his other grandfather (in case you can't tell, it emphasizes a certain team loyalty):

Here is Jo, reading along in his Haggadah:

And here is Leo, taking the seder very seriously (the onesie reads "Grandma's Little Matzo Ball"):

Jo also got the chance to see his other godmother Auntie A. (wife of Auntie S.), and their 3-year-old Z., on the way home from their seder. Z., in her role of "Bat Kvaterin" (Godmother's daughter) gave Jo a plastic frog to represent the flog plague. His Jewish education has begun.

As usual, Co has been using her culinary talents to keep me from matzah-related despair (and, uh, matzah-related digestion). She made the most delicious chocolate matzah to bring to the seder. And she's planned meals for the week that will be unleavened yet delicious, while providing leftovers for me to take to school for lunch. Tonight we had lemon chicken. What a wife!

Good Yontef to all who celebrate!

I'm a Winner!

So first, I won the most delectable raspberry-lemonade soap scrub from the U.T.E.R.U.S. auction. It's made by Backyard Soaps and I want to eat it, it smells so good, though I have contented myself with scrubbing.

And then there's Prizey. Thanks to art-sweet, I have become somewhat obsessed with this site. I've won a stainless steel water bottle (nice, but too heavy for my everyday shlep-to-work use), a pair of C-section underpanties for a friend, and a nursing tank for Co. But today, oh look what came in the mail: a Scootababy. For ME. Well. I will let Co wear it too. But I love this carrier. It is an excellently comfortable choice for the full-figured gal. Co describes it as a cross between the Ergo and the Maya. Mine is the funky jellybean print.

Happy Pesach to all who celebrate! Jo's Grandmom is in town; here he is reading "My First Passover" with her (note Maggie's ear to the left). Pix of his first seder to come...

Mama & Son

Mama & Son
Originally uploaded by familyo

Melt my heart, people.... That's my boy.

(I don't know how it happened. We made no effort to match the donor to my looks. But I admit, I love being told he looks like me.)

4 Months Old!

Jo is 4 months old today (His Grandmom, sweetly, called to wish him a happy 4 month birthday. And his mommies made sure to have some cake.) This picture of him was taken a few days ago, and it's one of my new favorites. I can see in it the little boy he will become.


Some highlights of life with Jo:

*His favorite new trick is blowing raspberries. He takes a deep breath, purses his lips, sometimes pokes his tongue out slightly, and blows. It makes a very satisfying noise, and baby and mommy/mama get sprayed generously. He does this all. the. time.

*He rolls from side to side, and is trying really hard to sit up. He can almost do it by himself.

*He has stopped hating tummy time, and enjoys pushing himself up. He still doesn't like the position for prolonged periods of time, but the pushing up is new and exciting. We still sing "Eye of the Baby" and the theme from "Rocky" during Tummy Time. ("Rising up, back on the Gymini...Just a baby and his will to survive..." I'll spare you the rest.)

*He loves to play with toys, including rattles, keys, and small stuffed animals. Oh, and books. The tasty kind.

*Today we got out his highchair seat for the first time. Dr. Rightwing suggests that during the fifth month, babies might enjoy sitting in a highchair and playing with small blocks on a tray. Since we had both the highchair and the small blocks we gave it a try. He enjoyed it for about five minutes, which was long enough to get some adorable pictures. He looks like such a big boy to me when he's sitting in his highchair.


*We took him to an infant massage class yesterday, and of all the babies his age (most were younger, one was just 18 days old!) he was by far the wiggliest and most active. We are in for it, I think.

*Today I finally got out my children's music collection to share with him. It's a combination of records from my own childhood that I've put on cassette, and cassettes I've collected over the years through my work in children's radio. Co has a lot of great music she's downloaded for him, and has wonderful playlists on her computer that he really enjoys. My collection is harder to access because (I realized today) I've been tending it for twenty years, so the lion's share is on cassette rather than CD (and I don't do computer, for music, but that's another whole post). So today I pulled the relevant cassettes out of their alphabetically/chronologically organized casette holders and put them in a box by the stereo so I'll be able to grab them easily. I've already made him a section on our CD rack. (Only for my sweet Jo would I interrupt my musical organizational systems.) All of which is to say that, today, I played him songs from my childhood, and tapes I've had since I was in my twenties, and even my teens, thinking that someday, someday, I would play them for my own child. I had tears in my eyes.

*His favorite song -- he grins when you start to sing it -- is "I Had A Rooster."

Here's his four month photo with that other Flipper. This picture also marks the first time we've successfully caught a smile on camera. (The red-eye reduction light gives him the deer-in-headlights stare you see in most of our flickr photos.)

Daycare, Week 1

We all survived! Jo spent two half days and, on Friday, a full day, at "school." His caregivers say he is adjusting. He has been eating plenty and napping some.

Next week he goes for two full days, and then the following week is my spring break. It's a work in progress, but so far the mommies are relieved and pleased.

And here's what a big boy Jo is! (His three-month picture was taken three weeks ago so now he's bigger still!)
[Bottom right 3 days old, bottom left 1 month old, top right 2 months old, top left 3 months old. Click on photo to see a larger view.]

Grandparents

This post was sort of inspired by Calliope's beautiful testament to her Grandmother. However, while Calliope's story is bittersweet, mine is just plain bitter. I didn't want to post my story, when there are so many lovely blog posts you could be reading about grandparents. So it was really Sophia's honest posts about her own family that made me decide to air my own dysfunctional and dirty laundry.

I hope that at some point, Co will post about her grandmother (who helped to raise her) because her story, like Cali's, mixes up the bitter and the sweet and, it must be said, the raucously funny.

The short version is that I never had a grandparent relationship. As I've grown older I've been more aware of this absence; even now, at 33, I have friends with living grandparents, and friends who have lost grandparents only recently. It is simply not a connection I can imagine, which makes me feel a little awkward and embarrassed.

My father's parents died young. I am named for my father's father (his name began with an L.). His mother lived until I was 2 1/2. I might remember her, just a touch, or I might just remember the photographs and stories I grew up with. I am told she loved me and I cherish that information. I still have the stuffed toy she gave me as an infant. My sister, born when I was three, is named for her.

(My father's family of origin had plenty of dysfunction; however, my grandmother loved me.)

My mother's parents, on the other hand.... To engage in a little distance, retroactive, amateur diagnosis: I think they were both narcissistic personalities. At the very least. When my mother and her younger brother were growing up, the family moved every few years because my grandfather had trouble keeping jobs. They lived in towns where they were ostracized for being Jewish, and they lived on the grounds of a mental institution. My mother was left with her grandparents (her mother's parents) for many summers, as well as her entire kindergarten year (hence, she attended a Yiddish-speaking Socialist kindergarten). My middle name is the same as my great-grandmother's, the woman my mother saw as her mother figure. Mom continued to be parented by her grandparents until they died when she was in her 20s; her own mother would refuse to speak to her for months and even years at a time.

When my sister and I came along, my mother had fantasies that her parents would redeem themselves by being loving grandparents. However, we were just afraid of them. My grandmother screamed a lot. My grandfather told jokes, but literally turned away if we cried or asked for anything.

I have one first cousin, 4 years older, the daughter of my mother's baby brother. C. grew up in California and every summer my grandparents would pay for her to fly east to visit her father; but because they paid for these arrangements, she spent the bulk of her visit living with them (her dad lived nearby). She would come to visit us after weeks of living with our grandparents, and dealt with the experience by organizing myself and my sister into plays that re-enacted the household. She played my grandmother, I played my grandfather, and my little sister played cousin C. The usual scenario was that as our grandmother, C. wouls scream at me (our grandfather) while I sat on the couch, watched T.V., and pretended to eat Oreos. Then Grandmother/Cousin C. would turn on my sister (playing Cousin C.) and tell her she was too fat and needed new clothes. My parents were both amused and horrified.

When I was nine, my mom threw my grandmother a huge surprise party for her 65th birthday. It was a big deal with a rented restaurant room and calligraphy on the invitations. Cousin C. was flown in from California. A few days later on Thanksgiving, my mom and grandmother had a huge blow-out fight because my grandmother accused my mother of throwing the party just to show that nobody liked her. Now, this is insane troll logic. The party was HUGE, the most impressive affair my nine-year-old self had ever attended. But my grandmother did not speak to my mother ever again. Three and a half years later we got a call that she was in the hospital; my mom planned to drive down to see her that weekend, but we ended up driving down for her funeral instead.

My grandfather insisted that my grandmother died without a will, meaning, of course, that he became the sole inheritor. All of the family (my mom, her brother, my cousin, and my grandfather's sister) firmly believe that he destroyed my grandmother's will. She had some money inherited from her parents, and she would have left some to cousin C., to our cousins who immigrated from Poland to Canada, to the young woman she virtually adopted after saving her and her mother from an abusive father/husband (my grandmother, unbelievably, was a social worker by profession). She really would have. My mom and her brother tried to do some investigation about the will, but it all led to dead ends like a dead lawyer, and some "private time" my grandfather had insisted on spending in their safe deposit box.

Just one month later, my grandfather announced his plans to marry a woman my mother's age with whom he had been carrying on an affair for ten years. She was his secretary. I saw him less than a handful of times between my grandmother's shiva and his death a few years ago. Except for one random card when I was in college, he never contacted me, my sister, or cousin C. My mother spoke to him on and off; every single one of their phone calls ended with him raging about how little she appreciated him. She kept calling every so often. "Where there's life there's hope," she always said. But when my grandfather died, neither she, her brother, my grandfather's sister, nor any of his three grandchildren went to the funeral.

I don't know what went wrong with my grandparents. But my mom is healthier than her parents. And my sister, cousin C. and I are healthier still.

Daycare, Day 1

Today was Jo's first day of daycare. The plan is for him to attend the staff daycare at my school (named The Village, as in, "it takes a") on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays from 8:30 to 3pm (my work hours).

I drove in today, only the second time I've ever done it. (An aside: I really love driving to work, which I didn't expect. I thought that traffic, tunnels, and parking would all be a hassle. They are not; the commute is shorter; and the sense of freedom in my car with my moonroof and my radio....well. Unfortunately it's too expensive to be a regular thing.) I had company because a colleague, who lives around the corner from me, needed help shlepping some sound equipment to work. We sang Pete Seeger and Ella Jenkins to Jo over the bridge and through the tunnel. I ran into another colleague as I was parking, who helped me ascertain that my parking place was legal (the parking rules are confusing in the town where I work) and then helped carry Jo's stuff to the building. I was a little tearful after I dropped him off -- it was hard to leave him -- but fortunately teaching is an absorbing profession so I didn't dwell on him once I got to my classroom.

We're only putting him in for half days (3.5 hours instead of a full day of 6.5 hours) for the first two days (today and Thursday). Co came to pick him up at noon, and he was in a good mood, so she brought him over to my building to visit. (Our school is in two buildings, across a small playground from each other.) So I got to show him off to my colleagues and students, which was, of course, awesome.

He got a good report from his caregivers at The Village. He only napped for ten minutes for them, but he does that to us some days too. He also willingly took a bottle.

In addition to Jo, the other residents of The Village right now are two-year-old twin boys. (The cap is five kids, with the two caregivers.) I don't think they appreciate the disruption of their routine, to be honest (they've been alone in there for over a year) but we'll all get used to it.

We lost two socks (one each from two different pairs) but that is the worst thing that happened. And now we will put him in shoes for daycare.

So, the first day is over. The mommies are breathing a big sigh of relief.

The Getting-Your-Crap-Done Meme

Cali tagged us for this meme some time ago, but I am only getting my sorry ass to do it.

Here are the rules:

Step 1. Reference back to the blog that sent you.
Step 2. Make a list of 5 things that you have to get done this week, no matter how small.
Step 3. Get 2 other people off their asses to get their shit in order.

So I guess I can't list "doing this meme" as one of my things. Heh.

Here is my list:
1. Make some progress, any progress on the giant Home Study Autobiography that intimidates me, but stands in the way of my legal rights to my son.
2. Bring lots of Stuff to school for Jo's daycare (extra Pack n' Play, diapers, wipes...).
3. Drag out the test prep materials from my file cabinet since my students' state test is in about a month. Blech.
4. Decide whether we can go to California in May. Commentary on cross-country travel with a 5 month old?
5. Go the grocery store, because Co can't last too long without her seltzer.

I tag: One of His Moms and Cutest Little Babymakers.

Less Annoyed

*The visit with my mom turned out to not be so bad. She apologized for being flaky about getting together in the evening. The apology degenerated pretty quickly into her whining, "But I'm a person too!" (Meaning, a person who needs to go to political conferences.) That's fine; I just wish she could be the kind of person who was a grownup, and with whom we could make reliable plans. Oh, well. She showered Jo with three-month birthday gifts, mostly books because she is my mom, but also this tasty rattle:


*The Babies R Expensive item was not broken, just poorly constructed. Ultimately, after a phone call to the company, I prevailed over the cheap plastic crap. And I do not have to go back there. Thank God.

*Last weekend was our small, local, and adorable St. Patrick's Day parade. We took Jo, all decked out in his green (he is 1/8 Irish after all!). Here's the wee lad:


The parade featured Irish setters, Irish dancers, a green trolley, and horses with shamrocks painted on their butts.

*Last night we took Jo to his first Purim services. For several years now, Purim services at our congregation have been preceded by a parade that involves a motley crew of us walking around the block with noisemakers, costumes, and decorations, including a trussed up folding chair on which we carry "Queen Esther," who is played by a rotating cast of children of both genders. Co and I play a role by ordering paraphernalia from Orient*l Tr*ding such as masks, crowns, and bubbles, to make the parade as festive as possible. This year someone called us the "Purim fairies." We only stayed for a little bit of the service because all the noise was a bit much for our little boychik. (When the story of Purim is told, you're supposed to drown out the name of the villain with noisemakers, booing, etc.) So we took him home to cuddle his boob in peace.

*I'm home today for Good Friday. Jo and I celebrated by going to a queer parent's group while Mommy got some work done. Jo enjoyed watching the big kids (the other babies were 9 months, 13 months, and 15 months), which I hope bodes well for day care, where he'll be hanging with two year old twins. After the meeting, Jo and I picked up prescriptions at the drugstore (our local pharmacist was appropriately delighted with the baby), filled the car with gas, and got the oil changed. I felt like such a mom rockstar!

Seriously: going back to work has been rocky. I love my job, and I get home most days by 4pm, so it could be a lot more traumatic than it is; but I have had days when I thought Jo preferred Co; when I ached with jealousy because she and Leo's Mom took a walk in the sunshine with the babies; whenever I have to ask Co a question about Jo's routine or habits, my heart plunges. So it really felt wonderful to be able to be his full-time mama, even for a few hours, and know he and I could handle it. I can't wait until this summer!

*A colleague gave me this handmade onesie. It's nice when people know you....



*I included some photos of Jo in this post by CCB's special request. We're flattered! I wouldn't have thought people wanted more of the little tyke. But since our public is clamoring, here's some cute stuff and some footage.

Co adores this picture:


She took several videos of our talkative little guy. In this one he rolls around on his Gymini, babbles, and eats his fingers:


Talking & Finger Chewing from L.O. on Vimeo.

Photo Friday & Annoyances

Last week, I entered two pictures into Photo Friday, but I didn't get a chance to blog about them. Somehow, I feel like that is cheating. (I know that's crazy.)

So, here is this week's entry. I feel a little lame resorting to so many Jo pictures for Photo Friday, but this one really did come to mind when I saw the theme: both because he's swinging in the picture, and because he I had titled it "Man In Motion." I would like to name more of our pictures after 80s songs.



**********
"Why is Elmo blue?"
--overheard at Babies R Expensive: a mom said it to her toddler, when he showed
her a Cookie Monster rattle

I actually said aloud, "It's Cookie Monster." The woman replied, "Oh honey, I think the lady's right." Yep.

As I've said before, Babies R Expensive itself is highly annoying, but I needed to return a gift item (we got two of the same thing). Then when I got our new purchase home, it was broken. So I have to go back there again. I'm thrilled.

*******

Jo turned three months old on Thursday!! He is big, and beautiful, and delightful. My mom decided to come into town to see him in honor of his three-month birthday. I was pleased and found myself dropping it into conversation that Jo's Grandmom was coming for his 3 month birthday. Then she found a political conference going on in our city this weekend. She (and her husband) came by at noon, and left for the conference by three. She called at 7 to talk about coming back to our place for dinner and to hang out with the boy...but then she called back a few minutes later to say that they'd run into someone and her husband just had to debrief the conference over dinner. (Because she'd mentioned dinner earlier, we hadn't mobilized to feed ourselves.) But they'd only be about twenty minutes. A full two hours later, she called and said they were coming over. Co told her she was doing no such thing (I made her answer the phone; she was polite, though, 'cause that's my Co).

I am feeling neglected and bitter, but fortunately, my sweet baby doesn't know the difference. The first time she does that to him when he is aware, is the last time she sees him.

Here is the sweet 3 month old she is missing out on.

Teething??

Jo will be three months on March 13. He is very, very young. But he has been physically advanced in practically every other way. (He is probably over 14 pounds by now; he has held his head up and pushed up with his hands [on his tummy or on our chests] in ways that people have told us are advanced for his age.)

And now we are wondering if our little prodigy is teething early. On Monday night he screamed and screamed and screamed for no apparent reason, for two hours. I share this story knowing that Jo is a very mellow baby, and that was the first time we've dealt with such a situation; many of you have put up with much longer, and much more frequent, screamfests. But it was very out of character for our babe.

Then we noticed: he's drooling more. Today he had some diarrhea. He has been gnawing on his hands. The drooling and the hand-gnawing are listed as things he starts doing more of at his age, but they can also be signs of teething.

I gave him one of his teething toys (which we stuck in the fridge on Monday night) and he went to town.

More experienced parents, could he really be teething?? And is there a way to tell (I mean, other than, say, a tooth appearing)?

The Book Meme

Wow, we've been tagged twice, by Jenny and by Lynn. So I'll try to get Co to participate in this one too.

The rules:
1. Grab the nearest book of 123 pages or more.
2. Open it to page 123.
3.Find the first 5 sentences and write them down.
4.Then invite 5 friends to do the same.

I am actually reading The Namesake but the directions say the nearest book....and that happens to be Mama Leah's Jewish Kitchen. Co left it on the coffee table because she was thinking about baking challah tonight. (Yes, even though she was home all day working AND taking care of Jo. My wife is a goddess.)

Poached salmon wasn't anything my mother had in her shtetl! And it's very expensive today as well. But it makes a beautiful and special buffet dish that is also extremely easy to prepare. It's good hot or cold and will feed a lot of people. Ask the fish market to fillet the whole salmon, leaving on the skin and saving the head and bones for you.

I really love it that my answer to this meme referenced fish heads. Awesome.

Now to tag. I choose: Melody, S., Shelli, Sophia, and H. and L.

Benevolent Freight Train

So, I'm a working mom now.

I like my job, I like my students, I enjoy being out in the world and exercising that part of myself. But ho boy, it's an adjustment. Hence the "benevolent freight train" metaphor. (And there's just one of the reasons I am not a poet...)

I miss spending the day with my boy. I have cried from overwhelm more than once this week.

And I'm EXHAUSTED, though mildly hopeful that it took me until Thursday to be quite this exhausted.

Co is still home with Jo full-time 'til April. She is adjusting to being the sole stay-at-home mom, which she will tell you about when she gets the chance.

Updating here, and staying up to date with all of you on our blogroll, are among our goals. (But don't feel too slighted, 'cause sleeping is among our goals as well, which proves that not all of the goals get met.)

Photo Friday: Tranquility

What a wonderful topic!

I mulled it over for the past few days and the following two ideas popped to the forefront.

This first photo is from our 2006 honeymoon to this wonderful lesbian-owned-and-operated resort, which itself embodies tranquility. It was taken in the literal backyard of the hotel. The town in the distance is Frederiksted.


I absolutely love the natural aspects of the Caribbean -- the weather, the water, the flowers and trees, the animals -- though the human behavior in the region (colonization, slavery, the resulting poverty/tourist economy) is less than tranquil.

And here is the most tranquil sight that we get around these parts:


He is clearly as peaceful as can be. And oh, the tranquility for the mommies!!

Sweet Stuff

*Jo is currently wearing/puking on a Ralph Lauren outfit. His is the only Ralph Lauren in this house; see post below about dressing my son. It's a hand-me-down. Unlike most of his sleepers (is that the right word for the ones with sleeves and footies?), it snaps in the back, not the front, which made for some impromptu tummy time on the changing table. Jo was not thrilled. It's not a surprise to me that the designer outfit looks snazzier and is far less convenient.

*I had a really wonderful encounter on the street with Jo. I was on my way home from moving the car for street cleaning, wearing Jo in the Ergo and carrying the carseat. An older man (he seemed older than my parents) standing outside one of the apartment buildings smiled broadly at me and gave me a thumbs-up. Then a few minutes later he caught up to me as I was walking (none too quickly) and told me that he used to wear his first grandson "like that," and now he has twelve granchildren, and it is the greatest blessing, "so God bless you." He had a thick Eastern-European or possibly Israeli accent. I grew up surrounded by older men with those accents and I see a lot fewer of them these days, because of both death and distance, so I teared up over this interaction.

*Maggie went to the vet today and despite some neglect in the walkie department (but she gets lots of cuddles!) she still lost .8 of a pound since her last weigh-in. At least the dog is on track.

*Chocolate Raspberry Milanos. Not sure how new they are out in the world, but I'd never seen them before. Yum (this is why it's the dog, not me, who is on track).

Working Mom

We took Jo to show off to visit my colleagues and students today. He was a hit, of course, with everyone commenting on how big/alert/adorable/gifted he is. Someone said he had my eyes. Not ironically. (He does, right now, though we'll see if that changes.)

So, I'm not quite a working mom yet. Let's say I've been a part-time working mom, in this sense: though I've been on leave, I have the kind of job that never leaves. For those of you just tuning in, I teach 7th grade. So I've been in touch with my leave replacement, sometimes daily, about various issues with the students. I had to write the reports. Even in my time at home, with Jo, there is this other thing that lives in my head. It didn't affect my time with him negatively, by any means (well except I wish I hadn't had to do the damn reports!), it's just there.

I did go back to school once before, for a meeting in mid-January. I was stressed about having to go, about leaving Jo and Co. I was really a mess about for a few days beforehand. And then I went...and it was fun. I enjoyed being back with my colleagues, talking about our students, being in that role again. I probably stayed a little longer than I needed to, although of course my plan had been to dash in and out as quickly as I could. I called Co while I was walking to the train, to let her know I was coming home, and heard Jo in the background, and totally fell apart. I had missed hours with him, I was sure I had missed entire crucial stages of development.

This pattern has been pretty consistent; I've gone to my Hebrew tutoring job several times since he was born (that's around the corner and for an hour at a time) and I've been grim about leaving him, enjoyed the work, and then panicked that I was away.

My first day back at work is February 25, and then I'll be a full-time working mom. (Co will be home with Jo full time 'til April.) I'm scared, but I do think I can do this. It's a transition, and I hate transitions, until I establish a routine. I know there are so many moms who have gone before me, many of whom (I hope) are reading this, and I know that if they do an amazing job, I can survive.

I seem to have two compartments in my head and heart, my job/career and Jo, and I love both. I love Jo more, I don't hesitate to say that. But I enjoy my teaching too. Right now it feels very schizoid, that when I am engaged in one it is hard/painful to think about the other. It helped to bring Jo to school, that I've now changed his diaper in my classroom and introduced him to the class hamster, that everyone there has met him in the flesh.

This working mom is definitely a work in progress.

Random Stuff

*We got a Valentine's Day card today from my dad, addressed to Lo, Co, and....A. Jo's middle name is indeed A. He has been at two of Jo's life cycle events, both of which emphasized the child's name. Weird.

*I went to See Vee Ess today, to pick up some items for my poor sick wife. (We have ruled out mastitis, we think, though I did pick up an antibiotics scrip just in case.) I find it very difficult to avoid impulse purchases there. Today's were limited to chocolate covered Nutter Butters, and baby wipes.

*Somebody wrote (is that the word? drew?) a manga Bible. A click is worth a thousand of my words in this case.

*We went to our childbirth class reunion, and took the requisite photo of babies lined up on the couch. Jo is second from the right, asleep on the little girl who is last in the row (also asleep; here's a close-up of the two of them).


*Jo is two months old today! That is not random, and I need to work on a real post about his development. He is just amazing. We're going to the pediatrician tomorrow and I am a little afraid to hear what he weighs. He has outgrown all but a few of his 0-3 month clothes, and I don't think he's long for size 1 diapers, no matter how many Mama may have stockpiled.

*I'll leave you with my latest favorite photo. Co is wearing him in the Maya wrap here:

Dressing My Son

I am perhaps the least fashion conscious person on the planet. I do try to make sure that my clothes match. I know there is a rule about stripes and floral together. And for Co's sake I don't wear the sweat pants with the big bleach stains out of the house (beware of dishwasher detergent; who knew). Okay, maybe once in a while to walk the dog, but that's it.

But dressing Jo is the most fun I've ever had. It's like playing dolls (my dolls weren't very fashion conscious either; I never had many outfits). Jo has tons and tons of outfits, thanks to Mean Mama, other generous locals, Nephew S., and the gifts. His clothing is styling, too. I'm not so sure it would be if I picked it out, but I have only bought him one item of clothing. Really.

Not only is it fun to pick from the adorable outfits, but then there is the coordination. The socks, bib (for those spitty days), hat all have to match.

This picture is a good example (admittedly, sans bib and hat). It is also a cute example of how he is trying to roll over, and how Maggie thinks his toys are hers.

I consider it a victory if I even get dressed, but my kid is going to look good.