3.02 Miles

That's it.

Bed time.

Fluff Ball

OK, business first: No walking today. Sorry. We had Music Together in the morning...only the most fun you can have with a small child in one hour...then we had an important appointment, which is the topic of the post, and then nap time in the car and a shopping trip to Trader Joe's. $167.00 worth of a shopping trip (if you know TJ's, you know that's a high bill...rarely do I bust $100) with no nibbles and only some wine. Yeah. We were out of food.

Our appointment was to see if we would be adding a member to our happy family. As you may or may not know, we lost our dear fuzzballs James and Violet in an evil, violent way over the summer. No desire to rehash. It's been five months and while that seems like a short time to replace our guys, I have been itching for a kitten for the past month. One reason is Maia, she's getting ready to crawl, so I feel it's now or wait another year before introducing a pet. I want a cat to be able to know the lay of the land, so to speak, before being chased by an infant.

I found a rescue group to work with. The woman who runs it is wonderful. While there were some hoops that John found kind of over the top--like the adoption application--we're getting a cat that is going to suit our needs: boy, playful, friendly, not skittish, able to self entertain and willing to be a house cat.

I met Cary, for Cary Grant, and fell in love. He's got a square face, fluffy ears, a puffy tail and a sweet playful demeanor. He loves cat toys. He loves to play. And he loves to be loved. At one point he flopped down on his kitty bed and as I began to pet his head his purr motor kicked in to high gear. I was hooked.

Maia made her animal "huh huh huh" noise and really wanted his tail. We'll be "house training" two babies I fear. He's getting fixed today, including shots and a microchip and he gets to come home to us this weekend. I'm so excited! I need to run to the pet store and pick up food and kitty litter. He's going to be an indoor guy but that will be just fine. I'll need to keep up on my vacuuming but hey, I need to do that anyway.

I think this is a good thing. I've missed our guys, especially James. While a new cat is not a replacement, he will fill a hole in the house. I love having cats around. I think the rest of the family will too.

Quickie

While it's still Saturday I'll make a note:

Spent most of the evening writing time goofing with new blogger templates. I'm feeling old. I need a new look--for myself as well. I'm dying to cut my hair, I just have to figure out where to go, how much to spend and what, exactly, I want.

Sigh. If only switching up the hair was as easy as switching up the blog.

No walking today. Lots of family visits though. We had a middling to poor breakfast in Turlock. Cool diner, but the food tasted as old as the formica counter tops. Dinner at the always good Aqui. Plus three desserts. Not all for me! We shared around.

Maia is having a bad bad night, so I really should get some sleep. I have the awful suspicion I'll be getting up many times for comfort tonight. If those darn teeth would come through already. We'd all be happier campers.

Time Flies

I thought this evening's post was going to be all about my brilliant nine-month-old daughter. How she's getting ready to crawl, how she still doesn't have any teeth but I'm sure that four are going to pop in at once on the bottom, how she doesn't eat solids yet and that worries me but no one else so I suck it up and keep trying.

Yes, I have spent the past week thinking about Maia being nine months and what a milestone it is. I've been excitedly telling people about it today. Nine months. Wow. Where have the past three months gone?

Yeah. Maia is eight months old today. Somehow my brain farted away an entire month. Between two weeks ago and today, she has aged an extra month in my head.

Ooops.

So let me tell you about my brilliant eight-month-old daughter...

No teeth. None. Big gummy grin...she grins a lot and laughs so that her eyes crinkle up and her nose scrunches delightfully. She does this when she bounces. She loves to bounce. We took her on a completely unplanned trip to San Diego last month. While there we visited with John's uncle and aunt who "snow bird" there. We were with them in their super-deluxe RV for a little over an hour and except when I fed and changed her, Maia bounced on my knee the whole time. If you stop, she'll pump herself up and down until you begin to bounce her again. Literally hours of fun for her.

No teeth. I swear I see the tiny white heads of her four bottom teeth ready to burst into being at any moment. Four bottom teeth. I don't see any signs of top teeth, and man, if this is her teething pattern we're in trouble. Because she's been mouthy and cranky for two months now. It's getting old. For all of us, poor dear.

No teeth...and she hates having her mouth toyed with. This is the reason I think she just isn't into solids yet. She doesn't like having things pushed on her and she doesn't want you messing about with her mouth. I've had some luck with these mesh-bag-ring-pop-looking feeding tools, but they are messy messy messy. Especially with banana. Which she likes. Sort of.

She's been getting up on one knee lately and reaching for toys out of her grasp and becoming quite the wiggle worm. Again. I remember--because it was oh so long ago--when she first really wanted to sit up instead of just laying about...this new movement is like that only she's headed for crawling. So many moms are put off by crawling. I'm really looking forward to it. I think she'll have a grand ol' time scooting about. Really. Our house is so small, I'll always know where she is. No stairs to worry about. Just some cabinets to sort out and some TV/stereo/computer equipment to secure away from her and hey....she can crawl all she wants. As it is now, I sit on the floor and read or surf the 'net while she plays and she bounces in her Exersaucer when I need to pick up the kitchen or cook. I don't see crawling as interfering with the chi of our day.

Speaking of the chi of our day: 2.5 miles walked this morning to and from class. Plus a nice hour long, with a pause to check out the new hair salon, 2.4 mile nap walk. That's a total of almost 5 miles today. Woo-hoo.

Then we chatted and played with the neighbors for an hour. M has an adorable two-month-old boy...also M. She let Maia (another M...hmmmm) try out the Jumperoo. Miss Maia didn't want to get out. She rocked the Jumperoo, as expected. Nice visit, with plans to go for a walk on Tuesday, but all this was to the detriment of kitchen cleaning and diaper folding and Maia room cleaning. I've not really been doing housework this week. Naughty naughty wifey. Next week I'll have to be better. Plus, it's nine o'clock and I have no idea what to do for dinner. I'm thinking about skipping it altogether. Or just eating sausage.

Get your head out of the gutter. I'm here alone.

That's it for this evening. Tomorrow brings us breakfast in the Central Valley with Grandma NorDelle and Grandpa Jack. Then dinner with Grandpa Gene and Grandma Susan. At least tomorrow I don't have to worry about what I'm going to cook.

Is It Too Late?

I'm wondering if it's too late for a New Year's Resolution. It's February after all. I'm hoping the year is still new enough.

In any case, I am vowing to write every day. Even if it's just a "Hi" and how far I walked. My other goal is to walk every day. Today: 2.3 miles. Short walk downtown. Don't ask for the time, because snacks were had.

Weather: Gloomy.

Daughter: Fine. More on her tomorrow.

Homework is done....yes I am back in school. I'm taking technical writing because I am a glutton for punishment. Just to do things right, I jumped into the hardest class for my degree after my lovely (new mommy-ing) semester off. John takes Maia on Friday mornings so that I might go. It's a perfect set up and I'm lucky to have it.

I need to print and initial my memo before brother dear comes home and the printer becomes out of reach until noon tomorrow. So many things to say...and I am making the time to tell it. Later.

Happy Birthday Love!

We celebrated John's birthday this evening. It's kind of strange, as all of the friends we celebrate have children now...the day's of showing up early and drinking all day until dinner are over. Now it's eat between nap and bedtime! Our friends from over the hill came over with their one-year-old. They have a hard time traveling, the little one doesn't like to sit in the car seat. I was so glad that they were able to come over today. Our other friends form down the way were a bit late because of nap time...but all in all it was such a nice time.

We made smoked prime rib and garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus and spinach apple salad for dinner...with mushroom gravy. Yum. The prime rib was wonderful, no matter what my husband may say about its overdoneness. I had a blast making the sides plus rolls and my favorite (also hubby's) chocolate cake. Brandy, cherries and chocolate all come together in a most excelent combination of flavors.

It was really nice to have a family evening. No one minded a fussy baby. No one minded a fussy one year old. No one minded a fussy almost three year old. Our friends have all been there and we will be soon. It was nice to just kind of be and drink wine and eat food and play with babies and be friends. It has seemed that the last few times we've been together it's been BIG parties and it's nice to connect with small groups on occasion.

We also killed a bottle of Zin...a bottle of port...a bottle of Bouteille Call from = Bonny Doon Vineyard. Don't ask. It's simply wonderful. My head is slightly spinning from the before wine as well. Oh well. It's December. Time to get spun.

Maia is six months now and I Have to write about that. But for now, I must ignore spell check and have another glass of wine before I tackle cleaning the kitchen.

Month Five...and Still Counting

I have not written, directly, about the babe in a while so let me fix that right now. Miss M turned five months old two days ago and the last week has been amazing! She is becoming so physical. She has mastered rolling over from her stomach to her back...at least from right to left. She favors her right arm as her pushing arm and hasn't quite gotten the fact that she could push with her left arm and go over the other way. If she's blocked on the left side she still just gets kind of mad at the situation. But it is so cute to watch her flip over and smile as though she were saying: "See what I just did".

She is about to become a real sitter. Last Sunday John put her in the sitting position and let go and she stayed. This week she has just gotten stronger. She still mostly sits "froggy style" with her body hunched over, but she's begun to pull her torso up. She also reaches for her toys form this position and is so happy when she gets them. She's giggling and has even laughed out loud at Daddy a few times.

Being physical is more than her development. I remember, well, it was only a couple of months ago, when we were so careful with her. I was ginger and gentle with every touch and tried to limit rough play. She couldn't move very well...and I didn't like to mess with her. As she's grown my fear has subsided and now one of our favorite games involves tossing her up and down while singing The Grand Old Duke of York We tickle and dance around and jostle to William Tells Ride.... you know...ba-rump-bada-rump-bada-rump-rump-rump-rump...John will toss and swing her and she just loves it. She loves to move, to be moved, to be tickled and touched. She reaches up when she wants to be held and responds to touch in distinct ways. It is so different from even a month ago when it seemed that she just kind of put up with us. Now she knows we can be fun too.

Speaking of fun, we had a family adventure this afternoon. We took Maia up for her first ride in the Mooney. We were planning to fly over to Paso Robles in central California for lunch. It's about an hour flight with a solid destination and food! We are thinking of flying to Idaho for Christmas and need to make sure Maia can tolerate it before we embark on a three and a half hour trip.

Maia has ear gear. Ear protection is paramount when flying in a small plane. I found soft silicone earplugs, actually they're called "pillows" and cover the outer ear. They help with the pressure change as well as provide decibel buffering. She also has her small earmuffs...powder blue and oh-so-cute! I thought she was set. Well, the ear pillows have a learning curve as to how they go in best and the muffs didn't hold them in her tiny ears as I had hoped. She became uncomfortable and started to cry soon after take off. I went into stress mode trying to calm her down, the bottle wasn't helping and I couldn't pick her up and darn if that girl will still not take a pacifier. We decided to head back for the airport and not push it; after all, we want her to enjoy plane trips. As we were being directed back to the airport, Maia stopped crying and took her pacifier, alleviating some of the discomfort. We decided to toodle around for a bit...she was fine and beginning to nod off. We thought we'd head over to Half Moon Bay, a short fifteen-minute distance. While we didn't want to push our luck, we weren't ready to give up altogether. She fell asleep during the approach. Halleluiah.

Half Moon Bay was nice. We had lunch at the brewery that could have been better, but we'll just go somewhere else next time I think. We wandered by the fishing pier and had tea in an odd little cafe near the airport. Then it was time to head back home.

This time I got smart with the silicone ear pillows. I had purchased a neoprene headband designed to keep earplugs in while swimming. I really smoothed in the pillows, wrapped the headband across Maia's ears and placed the earmuffs over that. There is no such thing as too much protection for tiny ears. She seemed kind of frustrated with so much stuff on her head...but quickly settled down. I had a bottle ready to go for takeoff and she was asleep before we had leveled off. Good girl! John chose to take to scenic route home. We followed the coastline down to Santa Cruz then popped over the hills into the valley. Maia did wake up for the last part of the trip but was a happy camper...finishing her bottle and playing with her toys.

I think we're going to fly for Christmas. We're going to do a little more altitude flying with her in preparation for going over the Sierras but now that the ear/pressure kinks have been worked out I think we'll be fine. It's a great thing to be able to make these trips together. John and I love adventures and I really want our kids to be able to experience them too. And hopefully love them as well. Maia looks like she's off to a good start.

Housewifery

It's time for the annual Jell-O brain mold for my friend's Halloween party. This is the party where--6 years ago--John and I first met. It is very much tradition at this point.

I'm making a giant Jell-O shot this year. A Pina Colada brain stuffed with marichino cherries and garnished with crushed pineapple. Coconut rum will be substituted for some of the water and there will be a "two slice limit". I had my Jell-O flavors all picked out to mimic the drink: pineapple Jell-O stirred with whipped cream and the coconut rum for the right kick of tropical goodness. I went to the store to pick up the items and what should I see lingering on the shelf past its summertime run? Pina Colada flavored Jell-O.

(This is the fifties housewifery part)

I got giddy over the Jell-O. Giddy that there was MY FLAVOR. Ready-made goodness. I now know how our grandmothers felt about convience food and why they remain so popular. One box and your dinner or dessert creation comes to life. It's Better Living Through Science at its finest.

Suburban Rant

I went shopping, as I often do, at Costco the other day. The store was crowded with moms, kids and retired couples...the staple shoppers of mid-weekday afternoons. We were just fine in the store thanks to our newest and most favoritest carrier the hip hammock. Love it.

The problem occurred after leaving the store and centers on lazy, inconsiderate people, i.e.: most of the parking lot population. Here I am strolling down the street on the way to my car to off load my bulky purchases, and I get to watch as some woman ditches her GIANT DOUBLE WIDE Costco shopping cart right next to the front driver's side door of my car. WTF? The cart stand is maybe 50 ft away from her parking spot and she blocks my door (which was parked across from her car so she did have to walk across the driveway and pick that spot) instead of taking her cart to the appropriate place. This just pisses me off. I came this close[-] to yelling at her...something along the line of "What do you think you're doing with that cart!!??" Unfortunately, I am not comfortable with confrontation. I just stewed.

I also, after unloading my groceries, had to push two double wide carts and balance a small child the oh-so-grueling 50 ft to the cart stand. This woman had another woman with her and two children old enough to sit in the car without special seats. There was one grown up to sit with the--older than my baby--children and one woman to take back the cart. If I had merely left her cart I would have most likely scratched my door trying to get on or completely screwed the car next to me. Granted, it was a bright yellow H2, but I like to think I'm better than that. So, I took the carts to the right place.

It seems trivial, and it is, but it is the small courtesies that make civilized life. It's letting pedestrians cross at unlighted intersections. It's holding a door for a stranger with full hands (or a stroller). It's putting shopping carts away. These are the actions that make living in a population dense area bearable.

I may not be perfect in everything, but I try to watch the small things. Small things matter, if they didn't the larger would fall away as well.

Traffic

It's funny the thoughts that find their way into your head while sitting in traffic. I was in Half Moon Bay this morning for the annual Pumpkin Festival. Traffic on the way home is always awful...a two-lane street winds through the hills to dump hundreds of cars onto the freeways. Estimated time to travel 10 miles: 62 minutes.

I found myself thinking...spinning thoughts...my mind sparked by landmarks from my teenage days. I spent many days in and around the beaches of the area. I was facing the Rite Aid, used to be a Thrifty Drug, where my friend and I bought ice cream and the cute spider tattooed boy behind the counter said I looked like a girl he knew and weeks later he remembered me outside of the punk club in Berkeley.

I was drunk. He was straight edge. He gave me a quote for the article my mom was writing on the club scene. I was researching that night. Usually I was drunk with no purpose.

I thought of Captain Morgan and the senior trip three of us skipped to play at San Gregorio State Beach. Our own "senior moment" before we were old. We jumped off of low cliffs (or high rocks) onto the wet sand and huddled in a cave that was only exposed during very low tide cycles to smoke the green goddess.

Somehow my mind came around to the car behind whose wheel I was now sitting. I drive John's car now. I didn't always. I was staring at the rear end of a relative of my beloved car...which John now drives. Babies confuse many things, cars and drivers among them.

When John and I first began dating we were a little wild. We were having fun, we still are, but not in the same ways. After we had been dating for--oh--about a month I took him to meet my family. And I mean MEET my family. When my parents were still together we would all go Christmas caroling sometime in December. It was tradition. I took John. He must have been really into me to have gone to meet my family (brother and sisters included) and SING with them after only knowing me for a month. I had to marry him, and now you know why.

We were driving back to San Jose kind of late at night. Eleven or midnight. We decided to race home. Race. Each other. Over the freeway we sped. I was pushing 100 mph at one point and we were moving across lanes just racing for the sheer love of speed and the fun and, yes, even the danger. It was glorious.

It all came down to the last stretch of the race. We were going to my house for the night. I zigged and he zagged and he made it around the corner and snagged the parking spot first. I gambled and lost. He told me he always had it in the bag, his engine is bigger than mine. I didn't care. I just like to race.

Now I drive that same car with the bigger engine, but I wouldn't, couldn't, race it. We once read a story about a couple that was into illegal street racing. Only, they carried their very small children in the back seat. I couldn't do that. Now I have the car that won and I won't race it.

And Half Moon Bay looks different and the drug store is changed and I'm sure the place where I bought the purple shorts because my jeans were soaked is gone...I drove there without my license because no one cared if I did at that moment...I have the license now. And the car. And I was sitting in traffic letting my mind spin fine webs of memory.

Got 'Em!

I got Maia her* Baby Legs. Pink and brown stripe. Too cute! She deserved a treat after her four month check-up, complete with shots and an unexpected blood draw--from the arm and everything. Ouch!

She's fine, she just has some dark spots under the skin on her legs that the Dr. couldn't recognize off the bat...so we did a platelet count to make sure it wasn't anything to worry about. It isn't.

She's a cool baby and far more trendily dressed than I.

*...You know that, except for the very basics, baby clothes are for the parents and by parents I mean moms...because how many dads would buy leg warmers for infants?

Bye-Bye Summer

Even though the weather has been chilling down and the mornings have been blessed with fog, I haven't been able to say good-bye to summer. After all, the afternoons have still been freakin' hot.

Until today.

This morning started out just like yesterday, cloudy and cool, but unlike yesterday it never cleared up. Yes folks, we had our first rain of the season and Maia and I got a small taste of days to come. I went to the farmer's market in the Cats...that would be three days running visiting the snobby older sister of my neighborhood...for my weekly fruit and veggie run. Then headed to the posh baby store looking for these for Maia. Not in yet, but they'll give me a call when they are. Why don't I order them on line? I will. But I want to hold them first, and buy the first pair with king cash. Then go crazy on the Internet.

Still cloudy and cool weather-wise, which was weird considering it was almost 2 PM at this point. The clouds kept getting angrier looking as I drove to TJ's to finish shopping. Side note: I HATE TJ's on the weekend. It's a small store to begin with and on weekends everyone couple shops (except me...but I have Maia, natch) and makes it even smaller. And with the rain it was even worse...ah yes. Here is the point. We had our first rain this afternoon. I am officially saying goodbye to summer. Yeah, I know it's October. I should have said good-bye weeks ago. But here we are and here comes fall for real.

So Maia experienced her first rain shower this afternoon. Good thing she had on her thick hoodie. Her little almost-bald head was covered as we dashed for the store. I was not so lucky. No hood, no jacket, just a sweater and too long jeans. I wasn't expecting this at all. Good thing I did opt for a sweater at least. This first rain was a heavy wet rain. A good rain, not just a tease of things to come. There was an accident on the freeway, no surprise there. John enjoyed the day for different reasons. He stood outside in the wet watching rain sheet off of HIS roof. A testament to his skill as a roofer. He's been waiting for this moment. But it came none too soon as John finished the garage roof only last weekend. John even climbed into the attic to make sure there were no leaks. There weren't. He may have a new career ahead of him. I joke. It was a job well done as today proved, though.

Also on the list of firsts for the season: Maia ROLLED OVER on her own and I MISSED IT!! She rolled over for Daddy and wouldn't do it again. Little stinker. I'll try and get her to do it for me sometime this week. But we'll be able to report it to her doctor and that will be fun. She's getting big but staying cute so we still like her. *wink*. And rolling over. Geeze. What's next? Sitting up? I'm hoping she'll at least do that for me first, since we spend so much time sitting together.

It's chilly this evening and I have a new book to snuggle up to. That's a comfort and one of the best parts of the season. Tomorrow I'll make my weekly library run...another season of West Wing to acquire. Maybe they'll have Grey's Anatomy or Lost to check out. I always run seasons behind on TV, but this way I get to watch with no commercials. It's a trade off I can live with. With that last thought I’ll bid you good night my friends and “Happy Fall”.

Notes on the Week

What does the well-dressed baby wear to the Cats for music class? I don't know and it's going to come to a head sooner or later. Of course, in the Cats, all the moms are well dressed too. And all giving each other tips on the very expensive and exclusive gym they belong to..."Oh you're at Courtside too? Have you done the baby yoga yet? Oh, she loves it and takes a nice nap as soon as we're done...giggle giggle". What does this mommy wear? Fat rocks and chic pants with the oh so hip wedge heeled sandal. If it's me, maternity jeans and loose tops because I refuse to buy clothes until I lose some more baby weight. It sucks right now because the maternity jeans are too loose, but my regular jeans don't go over my hips or butt. Yuck and sigh.

We all know how much I hate to shop for jeans.

It's much more fun to dress Maia.

But I digress. In the beginning of a post. In any case, music class is a ton of fun...especially watching all of the parents. All the kids in the class are around Maia's age, in fact, there's only one baby who can sit up. The rest of the kids lay on blankets or are held on laps during the songs. Little legs are moved, little tummies are tickled and the parents rock out to the baby music. One number is called "Sneakin' Around the Room" and we, the grown-us, sneak, wiggle, and boogie in a circle around our darling babes. I can just see the WTF look in Maia's eyes. But then she laughs and waves her arms and kicks her legs and all is good again. After all, everyone is doing it.

So we have a good schedule going. A playgroup might be forming on Mondays; I have Mommy Group on Wednesday and Music on Friday. Plenty to keep us occupied. It's fun, but a challenge to not become completely sucked into Babyville. I think that's why the crib works for me. At night, I have alone time...or time just with John...and that's the time I need to refuel the mom battery. It's hard being "on" 24/7.

Everything else looks beautiful. Our anniversary dinner was a success. Sushi on the couch and a bottle of nice sake. I replaced the battery of John's watch and he brought me new rocks. Life is good and my ears sparkle now. So I guess I'm all right.

Busy week ahead. Maia turns four months and goes in for her next round of shots. Hello whooping cough! We’ll talk about solids. And see how much she's gained. And how much bigger she is. It's a fun check. I know she's bigger but I like to know by how much. I also have plans to see my fave author, Neil Gaiman, in Berkeley. Plus all the usual running around and merry making. We're happy happy fun girls, Maia and I.

Yawn. It's getting late and I've really said nothing of import. Just a little update to keep me in your mind. Till next time.

September 25

It is the second anniversary of the day when John and I said, "I do". Smiles all around. I can't tell you what I have planned, though. It might ruin the surprise.

You are disciplined but tolerant; a true American.

How fascist are you? Find out here.

For fun, post your score in my comments. I want to see where my friends come in.

Good Lord...

...it's September already.

Maia will be 100 days old this Sunday. She'll be "one year" right around Wednesday or Thursday. Where has the time gone?

A Letter to Maia

This post was inspired by this site and a similar call on a message board to which I belong.

Dear Maia,

The day you were born was one of the greatest in my life so far. In you I saw so much from the time you opened you eyes to the time when you were bundled up and I held you so close. I always knew I wanted to breastfeed you, to give you the best I had to offer and to build a relationship like no other. This is what I believed at the time.

Three months and a struggle I didn't think would ever happen later, I know that it is not the contents of a breast that makes a mother but the contents of a heart.

In that first hour after you latched on, right after birth, I thought things would be easy. I was so sure of my body and of your ability I brushed off the kind labor nurse who wished us continued success with breastfeeding. I told her I was ready, I had read the books, been to the meetings. I knew what was going to happen next. You, Miss Maia, seemed like the "champ" I had read so many stories about. Your latch seemed good, no pain and you were there and happy attached to me still. Even after the lactation consultant visited, and helped me correct your latch and explained to me that I had to be careful with your placement because the way my nipples were shaped I was not worried. I knew my milk would come in full and voluminous and we'd both be happy.

We took you home (and I still can't believe they just let us walk on out with you!) and that's where the real struggle began. You had your days and nights confused. You would be such a sleepy baby during the day and during the night would just stay up and wail. We tried rocking, bouncing and swaddling. Nothing seemed to really calm you down. I fed and fed you but you always wanted more. We could sit and nurse for an hour and you would cry as soon as I took you off. You were losing weight...but that was to be expected. Your doctor didn't seem to be worried and I just knew everything would be all right in a day or two. I thought I felt milk coming in and was waiting for the feeling of engorgement that all new moms describe.

When you were a week old we couldn't get a wet diaper from you. You had lost so much weight the skin was loose on your little legs (so chubby and darling at birth) your dad and I knew something was really wrong. Guilt set in. I felt so strongly that something was wrong with me. My nipples are scarred and I knew that I had done something wrong and I could not feed my baby. I was devastated as I called the hospital lactation consultant and made an appointment with her that very day. It was there I learned that my milk had no come in and we needed to be feeding you fast. You were on the edge of severe dehydration. I cried as you took a bottle and gulped its contents down. I couldn't feed my baby. My body, the one that gave you life was now rebelling and causing you to suffer. I felt at that moment lower and worse than I had ever felt in my life. I had let you down.

It was there that day I learned a new phrase: Chasing the milk. That was what I set out to do.

The details are not important. I tried herbs, pumping, and drugs. Nothing worked and every new can of formula I purchased was another knife in my heart. This is not what I wanted. I envisioned a loving, carefree, breastfeeding lifestyle. I was going to take you everywhere...all you would need was a clean diaper and a breast and we'd be set. The bottle heavy, formula mixing, stress-inducing place I was in at this point was so far from my expectations. I was miserable. I kept you at the breast...you stayed there even after the bottle was introduced...but it was not the pleasurable experience of closeness I wanted but rather a task; a chore that had to be done. I dreaded feeding time even as you began to thrive.

You did thrive. You are a born eater. You gained an entire pound in the first week after we began to supplement you. There was nothing wrong with you and that was a blessing. It was simply mama who was broken.

Feeding was still a miserable time for me. I used to sit and cry over you as I fed you formula. My heart was broken. I couldn't talk about it without the tears beginning. I didn't want to take you out for fear of being judged a bad mama by strangers or friends as I prepared yet another bottle instead of putting you to the breast. It wasn't a good time and I am afraid that I missed out on some of the joy of your first months because I was angry and sad over the loss of our imagined breastfeeding relationship. Something had to change and it needed to be my attitude.

It was a dear friend of mine who put things into perspective for me, although it took me some time to be able to process and accept her words. She pointed out that while we had lost what I had dreamed about, it was up to me to take what we did have and make that special. Feeding, even bottle feeding, was still time to quietly connect, to let you know how much you were loved and to look in to your eyes and know that I was doing the best I could by you. I had the power to define my breastfeeding relationship with you.

I have set aside my guilt. We nurse the best we can. You are growing. You are happy and you smile up at me the same whether you're at the breast or at the bottle. I hold you close for both and remain connected to you. I am still sad that we don't have the relationship I dreamed about before you were YOU but I want you to know that you had a mommy who fought for you and did her best for you.

The last three months have been harder than I ever thought. I knew parenting would be a challenge, but this extra one pushed my to my limits. I didn't think I would ever be happy with how things worked out for our "breastfeeding relationship" but I am now. We have built our own special relationship. You are my darling daughter. You don't love me any less because I couldn't nurse you exclusively. In some ways, this struggle has made me realize how lucky we are. We have the luxury of finding alternative food sources; you don't have to suffer because of me. You will be able to grow and become a healthy child and adult even without the benefit of gallons of breast milk. We are blessed by options.

I am blessed by you, Maia.


always your loving...mama

Nothing Doing

Maia is asleep in my lap. She's too comfortable to move, and I love to let her sleep. But...laundry needs to be changed, groceries need to be bought and dishes need to be washed. Plus: I have to go to the bathroom and I HATE the show that's on the radio right now but the control is across the room.

Luckily the computer is right here.

My Leg...My Picture

just playing here...

Comic Con...or More Geeks than you can Shake a Stick At

Comic Con was more than I could have imagined. With 100,000 visitors over the space of four days...plus the "sneak preview" evening there is enough to see without the added bonus of the booths in the dealers rooms. Every day has a full schedule of drop in conferences ranging from how-to's of the comic world to meetings with artists, writers and directors. Television stations and movie studios rollout there new offerings to see how they fly with the masses and of course, the big comic companies are there in full force to show what's new and hip in the world of four color print.

In a word: Overwhelming.

Navigating this world alone would have been hard enough but add a small infant to the mix and one might have a recipe for disaster. I came into it knowing that I wasn't going to push Maia too far...knowing that would mean that I might miss out on some of the things I wanted to do. It did. I didn't hit all the panels I was interested in or meet all the cool people who were there (most disappointing was missing Henry Rollins, but oh well, the breakfast took a bit longer than anticipated). All in all, I did get to see what was most important to me and I did have a very cool brush with greatness.

Joss Whedon held my baby. Joss, because we're on a first name basis after all, is the creator of many a cult classic from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" to the grossly underrated "Firefly". John and I are Firefly fans. We even make those who have not seen it watch it. Our DVD's have made the rounds. We might not be completely fanatical--like my sister Aribelle--but we dig it, you know? We were hanging out by the Browncoat (as card carrying members of the fan base like to be known) fan booth waiting to meet with said sister--who is so deeply involved I'm surprised she isn't tattooed--when word went out that Joss was circling the booth. Well. This was the day when Maia was wearing her Kaylee costume, from the Firefly show. Soon we spotted him. A group descended for pictures. I sat down to get a bottle ready. I waited for the crowd to disperse some. I grabbed the baby and made my move.

The conversation, as it were went something along the lines of me stating that I didn't normally accost people, but would he be so kind as to take a picture with my Kaylee baby?

Joss: Is she really a Kaylee?
Me: Her name is Maia, but she's wearing a Kaylee costume...

I thought we would pose together, but being a dad himself, he has no fears of babies so before I knew it I was handing her over to essentially a stranger for pictures she will only look at with slight embarrassment when she gets older. But, she is so cute!! I figure, these photos are really for us anyway at this point.

The best part was when Maia had her bout of baby gas as she was being held, and Joss-the-dad kicked in by mentioning that she was making a poo. Great conversation. He then decided that yes, she was the cutest thing ever and wanted to hang with her for the rest of the con...so he turned away and walked a few steps before smiling and handing her back. Very fun.

Joss with Maia

So that sums up Maia's first brush with the famous. Her other encounters that weekend were in rooms with dozens, if not hundreds of other people, but I'm glad I went and got to hear some of my favorite people speak. Ray Bradbury is still the funniest man on any panel and still sharp as a tack. His advise on writing? It should feel like sex. I can see that...I'd rather understand writing as sex than childbirth...but I think publishing is like childbirth. At least the writing is fun.

I would do Comic Con again...but next year I'm rooting for AirVenture in Oshkosh WI. John and I need to switch off big conventions and he gets his next year. Of course, there is always something for the both of us. We did end up buying art the Comic Con. German advertising lithographs from the 20's. Yeah, we have interesting taste. All in all, given all I experienced in San Diego, I still think my favorite part of the entire week was the room fairies. With that, I must go and get some more sleep.