First day of the season...

Yeah!!! Today is the first day of the season... Boots season! Have I mentioned how much I love boots? Today I am wearing my "signature" outfit: black boots, my favorite grey skirt, and a brand new black sweater from Ann Taylor. (The sweater could be any sweater, really, as long as it's black and from Ann Taylor. I collect them like black shoes - a girl can never have too many!) My outfit today makes me feel deliciously skinny and sexy (not scrawny). I am standing up taller and just feel plain old good. For the moment, banishment of the dead zombie mommy. If I could just figure a day to get my hair done, everything would be pretty darn close to perfect. Maybe next week.

Of course, all this gushiness could be due to the fact that I got lots of sleep last night! Thank God, a night of sweet blissful peace. Emma crashed HARD on my lap at about 7:30 after a fun evening of talking and playing with daddy (I actually left them sleeping together on the bed at one point while I made dinner. That was a nice change too - no Emma crying because I have chicken or shrimp on my fingers and can't pick her up. How does she know the exact moment when I get something on my hands? She's fine till then...) Anyway, Emma fell asleep on my lap after a good long nursing. Not just asleep, but out cold, limbs all limp and flung everywhere, head falling back and mouth open. She did everything but snore, my precious little munchkin! When I took her upstairs later, she woke up enough while I was putting on her pajamas to grab my hands. She wouldn't let go till I looked at her beautiful eyes, and she smiled this huge huge smile that makes the world stand still every time. She giggled through the rest of changing, and her warm weight in my arms as I rocked and nursed her to sleep was as sweet as could be. I wonder if God ever feels this way when we smile at Him? When we finally stop struggling and fussing and look at Him with such love in our eyes, and it's all worth it again...

up, down, up down

Where to start today? I'm out of breath with so many things happening lately. Last night was bad, today I can't keep up at all. Where to start?

OK, so Friday was a GREAT day. We'll start there. Friday my husband and I played hooky for the day, happily handing Emma over to her au pair like any other weekday and jumping on the train to New York City. It's the first real outing we've had alone, and it was wonderful. For once I didn't even feel guilty leaving her, and also didn't feel the overwhelming urge to rush rush rush back. What a blessing by itself. There are some good things to having an au pair... So, we started with a nice lunch and a glass of wine at a little french bistro. So sunny and even HOT that we had to change seats! That's something to be savored as we ease into Autumn (even though Fall is really my favorite - boots! Turtlenecks! I digress...) We wandered the streets window shopping and holding hands, and made our way to Union Square. After looking at all the artists and the fruit and veggie market, smelling the fresh basil and munching on raspberry pastries, we just sat on a bench and breathed together. Should we nap? Should we shop more? Should we go on to the Met? The wonder of options, with no Emma to consider. We need to do that more often, if only to maintain our own sense of selves. After a long pause, I was starting to notice that full feeling. As a bit of a drag, I had to bring along the trusty old Pump In Style, but admittedly I do feel pretty good knowing I am still providing for my baby, even while stealing away... Just as I was wondering where to perform such an awkward act (much weirder than breastfeeding and I'm not quite up to pumping in public, even if it was NYC!) lo and behold, peeping through the trees was a purple "r us." Know what's attached to that? "Babies!" Yeah! "Babies r us" is great because they have a "mothers' room" designed just for feeding, pumping, changing, and all other things public and private baby. A little tidbit of perfect timing, for which I was grateful. After that, we walked and then grabbed the subway up to Central Park. For the first time, found we both missed Emma. There were little kids and mommies/nannies with strollers everywhere. Thoughts of taking Emma to the zoo, climbing the rocks, playing on the grass. Even dreaming of breastfeeding her in some little secluded grassy circle of our own. We stopped to listen to a streetband and watched the toddlers dance and stare. It was almost like a physical ache, wanting her to be there with us, and we kept telling each other "next time, next time." Now we know. From there we did go to the Met. I wanted to find the Man in the Bowler Hat - from my favorite movie The Thomas Crown Affair - but sadly we didn't find him. We did, however, find our way to the rooftop cafe, where we spent some romantic minutes sitting with that view of the city. Not a bad way to end the day, and we have to go back. Now we have a list, or at least there's one in my head, of all the things we didn't get to do and see that we need to go back for. The angel in the park, washington square, shows, more park, FAO schwartz, food, food, food. Glen wants to do some of the other neighborhoods, we both think we need more trips (small bites) to the Met. Some with Emma, some not. The trick will be just to remember and get off our butts next time when we're feeling lazy and not up to the trip. To remember that we had more energy at the end of the day than at the beginning.

The weekend pretty much went down, up, down down down from there. We just couldn't seem to get it together. We went to the mall and I got to shop for clothes, which was great, but did one store too many and she went from happy sleeping stroller baby to crying inconsolable car baby and fussy not wanting to go to bed nighttime baby. Sunday was a mess of missed opportunities. Seemed like every time Glen needed something from me, I was feeding Emma or trying to convince her to nap. Every time I needed Glen to help with her, he was immersed in some project. Just at odds all day, and ending with a total meltdown caused mainly by my waking her up one too many times to do something (groceries, dinner). I think we also might be trying to many things at once in terms of training her, to tell the truth. First, the pediatrician (was it only last week? the week before? it's running together...) told us to stop feeding her every two hours and really work on getting her to a longer interval. Wouldn't worry so much, except she used the magic reasoning that continuing the way we were will end up making her overeat and could cause problems in the long run (ie make her fat!). Panic, instant change must happen. I mean, trying to be reasonable, but it's hard when you hear that you might be doing something harmful. So, working on that. Even though that's mostly the au pair's job during the day, we're seeing little changes at night. She wants to eat when she wants to eat! Also, finally gave in to my husband and moved her for the whole night to her crib. This breaks my heart - can she really be old enough for her own room? - and leaves me terrified - what if someone comes and steals her away? - but is probably a good thing. It is nicer not having to tiptoe around at bedtime like stealth mommy, and I don't cringe anymore every time Glen snores or the dogs shake their collars. But still... But, she does seem to be getting up more often now. She used to just get up once a night, around 3 or 4. Some nights she would even go all night (scaring me, of course, but she was only sleeping happily!). Now, no such luck. 11:30 and 3:00. We tried one night to get her back to sleep without constant nursing, but after an exhausting hour decided that was just too much. I know we need to find a way to get her to sleep without my breast, but I just can't do it right now. She needs sleep more than training. The other thing we realized is that she's falling asleep in my arms at 7:30 or 8 most nights anyway, so it seemed logical to shift her bedtime to that, instead of waking her up at 9 to take her upstairs. OK, seems logical, but in practice it means she's missing one feeding at night, also probably contributing to the waking up. There are just so many things to try and do, I know in my heart they are all good but just too many at once. The au pair is begging me to try and get her to sleep without the breast so Emma will sleep better during the day, my husband is begging me to get her onto the new schedule in her own room so he can sleep and maybe we can even feel like husband and wife again instead of exhausted zombie parents. I just want peace and sleep. And for her to be healthy and happy and to wake up every morning to her miraculous smile.

So, last night topped it all off because not only did Emma get up twice, but the au pair woke everyone up when she came in and the dogs started barking (why now? they don't do that most nights), and the monitor mysteriously started making these static noises that kept me awake. I finally tuned them out, and then woke to Glen leaning over me asking what the hell the noise was - he thought it was a mouse scratching! Finally figured out the monitor and the phone are interacting. Since we need the monitor, out went the phone... Oh, and along with moving her to her room, we're having fun monitor games. Like so many low-end audio things, there is really no low volume. There are only loud and useless settings. Since I've woken up twice hearing her screaming in real life stereo (monitor and voice) while trying to keep the monitor low (ie useless setting), I've come to the conclusion that we'll have to go with loud. Not ideal, and I hear her fussing more and Glen wishes I would just turn it down "because we'll hear her anyway", but also less unpleasant than waking up to baby already in full cry (because we didn't hear her) and flying half-dressed down the hall, trying to find arms and legs in my sweats and leaping over black and white doggy shadow forms and oh yeah, not waking up everyone else... This way at least I get some warning and can wake up a few minutes before she's all out. Knowing again that this is going to work better in the long run, but I swear I haven't had a real night's sleep since we moved her...

Anyway, again I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah, so the other thing was Jesse. My beloved old baby Jesse was up all night, panting and pacing and drinking and panting and pacing... For some reason at about 4:30 am, after I had been peacefully sleeping from Emma's last feeding, Jesse decides to start barking. Not like someone is breaking in, just one at a time. She wants attention. I don't know why, but clearly she is determined to get it. I kicked Glen out of bed and he let her out, but no better. I finally got out of bed and laid down on the floor with her. My poor old baby. I still don't know what was wrong, but at least she stopped pacing. I did get a few kisses finally too, but then she stood outside the shower staring at me (panting) and when I left for work she was wedged in between the au pair's legs. I don't know what to do for her. Is she hurt? Sick? Or just sad because she's not the center of my world anymore. Wish I knew what to do for her.

But, the light at the end of the tunnel. Joy of my life. Emma smiled when I woke her up this morning and reached up and grabbed my hands. She buries her face in my chest as I pick her up, and gurgles shyly at her dad when he kisses her good morning. As I made breakfast, she kept up a steady stream of baby talk. I asked her questions about her dreams - did you dream about fish? turtles? horses? cows? She laughed and smiled and babbled at trees and Davy Crockett and possibly Pop-Pop (but he's kindof like Davy Crockett), so I guess that's what she dreamed about. My darling baby. Sleep deprived, shaky, in search of caffeine and food, I am suddenly smiling. I am in love. My Emma.

end of week 4...

Thursday... (excerpted from an email to my support group)

This week things have definitely gotten better. Fewer tears and a lessening of the guilts. We've had some rough moments, but I'm learning to take those more in stride and not let them get out of proportion. A bad night is just a bad night, not a major disaster or (frighteningly) a new trend. A fussy day is just a fussy day. I've come to recognize that a good morning almost always means a rougher afternoon or evening, and vice versa, but a smile cures absolutely everything! In fact, we had a horrible night a few days ago (up 5 times! Ugh!) I was dragging pretty bad as I got up, but when I went to get Emma up, there she was sleeping like an angel with her arms flung out wide. As I looked at her, she opened her eyes a bit and there was that sleepy half-smile when she saw me and did her wriggly stretch. It's amazing how the whole night disappeared in an instant with all that love. Then the other day was maybe the first time I got home that Emma didn't know I was there right away. She was playing in her exersaucer and turned round the wrong way. I snuck up behind and spun her around, and when she saw me this giant beautiful smile bloomed up all over her face. Now THAT's a moment worth waiting for! She can smile all day long at the au pair as long as I get to come home to that. I admit to only one real sad spell this week, and that was one of those times when I was sneaking off to the irresistible babycenter web site at work and came across a string of comments about all these mommies reading books to their babies. I love to read, and one of my own fondest memories that I hope to repeat with Emma is sitting with my mother on the couch reading (and both eating bowls of cherries and blueberries). So many of the comments talked about how these moms are reading at naptimes, several times during the day… I do try to read to Emma, but it's so hit or miss in the evenings whether she'll be in the right mood (quiet, but not too tired and not hungry) to sit for more than a few seconds. So, a quiet wish for more time in that sense. Still, we do what we can and I know the au pair is reading to her too, so even if it's not all me maybe she'll still learn to love it.

Tomorrow I have a glorious day off (playing hooky), and my husband and I are stealing it away to go to New York City by ourselves. Gasp! A romantic adventure? Can it be? I will NOT feel guitly, and I will enjoy every minute! Of course, we might have to stop in FAO Schwartz - it's a NYC landmark after all, right? And if we happen to find something to bring home to our munchkin, well, that's OK, right?

Anyway, again, hope you are all good and may nursing still be a pleasure. 4 and a half months for us - did I ever really think we'd make it this far?

Week 4 - getting easier

So, today marks the beginning of week 4 back at work. I have to admit, it is getting easier. I did not cry this morning, just a few long sighs (but many many many kisses) and the guilt over the fact that I did not cry is not so heavy either. I still find it amazing the way my head and heart occasionally conspire against me some days! Emma still seems to be doing well, and she usually smiles at me as I walk away. Clearly she suffers no agonies of separation and guilt! Also doing better with the au pair, although I am looking forward to the day when we switch to daycare. I know in my heart that this is good for Emma. Being home is a happy place for her and she is well cared for. But wishing she were two blocks away instead and I could be looking forawrd to feeding her at lunch instead of pumping... Realized that by the time she gets to daycare, she'll be nine months old - probably pretty close to weaning from breastfeeding. So sad! Better to think of other things quick!

This weekend we went to a wedding for one of Glen's oldest friends. Another first for me - pumping at a wedding! Physical necessity sure trumps reserve or shyness. I shouldered my black backpack pump and boldly carried it into the reception! Luckily, it was at a country club that has these fancy rooms there for wedding guests, and someone was kind enough to loan me use of their room for 20 minutes. The only strategic snag was I wore a long dress with no fastenings on top, so it was a little awkward trying to drag the neck down low enough to get to the breasts. It looked like everything survived intact, but we'll see after the cleaners whether I did any real damage to the seems. Sigh. All worth it though. I did meet two mothers, both of whom said the "couldn't" breastfeed and claimed to envy me, though they did not seem to miss the pumping thing. One had a latching problem, the other said dairy bothers her baby and she couldn't seem to get it out of her diet. I wonder would I have perservered if I had such issues? I know my first reaction was surprise by the clear "couldn't" statement. I mean, after hearing in my support group the lengths some women went to to make it work, these two seemed ridiculously mild. Is it so hard to avoid dairy? Or have I become one of the breastfeeding nazis I dreaded early on? Glen seems to think I'm just much stronger, stronger than I give myself credit for. I wonder if they just didn't have the support I do at Pennsylvania hospital, and once again thank God for such strength and help. And at the end of the day, I am so very thankful I have gotten to nurse and nurture her this way. Yesterday too made me realize how easily this time could be interrupted, as I had my first experience with blocked milk ducts. It seemed like one side of one breast was just completely clogged, hard as a rock and so painful. I tried hot showers, massage (massage massage massage all day long), heating pads, and only fed her from that side, so pumping off the other in between. Glen didn't really understand in the morning, but by bedtime even he was starting to be concerned with the agonizingly hard knots. We basically made the decision to call the doc first thing in the morning if they didn't get better, but I was wondering how I would get through the night if it got worse... The only thing that really let me fall asleep was knowing that this only hurt me, it didn't affect Emma. And part of the solution is almost always to breastfeed through it, so even though it made me realize how much more precious the feeding is, still I knew this wouldn't stop it. But, like I do every night, I said my prayers while feeding Emma her last of the evening, and I asked God to clear it away. And this morning there are still a few lumps, but sometime during the night things loosened up, and so much relief.

Speaking of, one last thing before I go pump... Emma baby, I know you don't understand yet, but I do pray over you every single night as you slip off to sleep. I pray for God to watch over you and to send his angels to guard you as you sleep. I pray for your health and happiness, so that you may always smile. And I pray that God wraps His arms around you so tightly so you can feel Him and know His love. I hope that I can teach you about Him, but even if I fumble it, I ask that you get to know Him and feel Him all around. And baby as you sleep so perfectly and peacefully, in the quiet dark of the room Glen and I made so much in love for you, I know He is listening. My beautiful baby. Sleep.

for myself

For myself and Emma... I just want Emma to be able to read some day about how this all went, so she knows that it was hard but also that she is worth every second.

Going back to work has been one of the hardest things I think I've ever done. It's not like going to school or starting some new exciting job or moving to Germany - this time I think I really am missing more than I'm gaining. I've gone back to a job that I don't love so much, and each moment I know that someone else is watching you smile or sleep or cry. Every day I wonder if I have made the right choice, and every day I decide to try one more day, hoping that the next day will be better. Some have been, but then other days are harder and my emotions range all over the board. This morning I realized that I wasn't crying when I left the house - a first - and then I felt guilty because I wasn't sad enough! Like not crying meant I miss you less or love you less - HA! Still, everything as a new mom is different and brings thoughts and feelings I never imagined such a strong professional like me would have. I thought by now I would be tired of staying home and bored silly, but instead I discovered that being with you and being your mother is more rewarding than anything I've ever accomplished. Some days are hard, of course - days when we can't even get dressed properly or get out of the house - but other days just seem to be a world of discovery and joy. So why am I here at work? Practically, there are some pretty good reasons. Money, benefits. Not that we couldn't live with a smaller pay for me, but it would be tight. And mostly, what if I did stop working? Though I have been soulsearching for weeks now, I still don't know what else I would do. Lots of ideas like going back to school or switching into other career areas, but nothing I can really grab onto. So if I stopped, what would I have to go back to? Some day you'll grow and be out of the house again, and then what? I know alot of moms who say that their career was never the same. Is that OK? It might be, but I'm not sure enough yet to quite let go. In my most quiet moments, I feel called to go back to school for literature and religion. But then I don't know what I would do with it, and again there's that fear of letting go without knowing... What I do know is that I want to do my best for you, and that I want to pass on the feeling of bravely knowing you can do anything, anything you want.

My baby Emma, this time with you is so amazing. Being away from you certainly makes me appreciate more the time with you. Maybe it took coming back to work and pumping to make me really see how much I like breastfeeding you. It definitely took coming back to work to make me treasure that 3 am feeding! In fact, the last few days you've almost slept through that early morning time, and I've gotten you up. Partly because I know that's the best time to feed you to start your day and keep my milk supply up. But admittedly it's more because I am not willing to give up that time with you where it's just us in the dark, in the sanctuary that your father built for us. I know too that I am tired when I get home, and probably not as exciting as Melanie in some ways - that's hard. This is still new to me too, and making up games is not always my strongest skill! But even just those times when you lay on the bed looking up at me and we sing and play with feet and hands are a joy to me, and I think to you too. They make me remember that I don't have to be exciting all the time - I just have to be there for you. For now at least my face is still a world for you, just as yours is for me. You tiny hands are two little miracles, your feet the most irresistible things to kiss. And exploring each other is the best game anyone ever invented.

As I continue these weeks, I pray that God will help me figure out what to do. If it's right for me to stay, let me get more comfortable. If it's time to do something else, a little help? And in everything, let there be angels watching over Emma and our little family, guiding us and keeping us safe. amen

The Congo - for reading aloud

Yes, a strange seeming choice for baby, but she loves the sounds! To be accompanied by chants and kisses ("BOOM"!) and tickles and stomping feet or drums by Dad whenever possible...

The Congo
By Vachel Lindsay

A Study of the Negro Race

I—THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY

Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,
Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable,
Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table,
Pounded on the table,
Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom,
Hard as they were able,
Boom, boom, BOOM,
With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.

THEN I had religion, THEN I had a vision.
I could not turn from their revel in derision.
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE JUNGLE WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.

Then along that riverbank
thousand miles
tattooed cannibals danced in files;
Then I heard the boom of the blood-lust song
And a thigh-bone beating on a tin-pan gong.
And “BLOOD!” screamed the whistles and the fifes of the warriors,
“BLOOD!” screamed the skull-faced, lean witch-doctors;
“Whirl ye the deadly voo-doo rattle,
Harry the uplands,
Steal all the cattle,
Rattle-rattle, rattle-rattle,
Bing!
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM!”

A roaring, epic, rag-time tune
From the mouth of the Congo
To the Mountains of the Moon.
Death is an Elephant,
Torch-eyed and horrible,
Foam-flanked and terrible.
BOOM, steal the pygmies,
BOOM, kill the Arabs,
BOOM, kill the white men,
HOO, HOO, HOO.

Listen to the yell of Leopold’s ghost
Like the wind in the chimney
Burning in Hell for his hand-maimed host.
Hear how the demons chuckle and yell
Cutting his hands off, down in Hell.
Listen to the creepy proclamation,
Blown through the lairs of the forest-nation,
Blown past the white-ants’ hill of clay,
Blown past the marsh where the butterflies play:—
“Be careful what you do,
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
And all of the other
Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.”


II—THEIR IRREPRESSIBLE HIGH SPIRITS

Wild crap-shooters with a whoop and a call
Danced the juba in their gambling-hall
And laughed fit to kill, and shook the town,
And guyed the policemen and laughed them down
With a boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.

THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE JUNGLE WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.

A negro fairyland swung into view,
A minstrel river
Where dreams come true.
The ebony palace soared on high
Through the blossoming trees to the evening sky.
The inlaid porches and casements shone
With gold and ivory and elephant-bone.
And the black crowd laughed till their sides were sore
At the baboon butler in the agate door,
And the well-known tunes of the parrot band
That trilled on the bushes of that magic land.

A troupe of skull-faced witch-men came
Through the agate doorway in suits of flame,
Yea, long-tailed coats with a gold-leaf crust
And hats that were covered with diamond-dust.
And the crowd in the court gave a whoop and a call
And danced the juba from wall to wall.
But the witch-men suddenly stilled the throng
With a great deliberation and ghostliness
With a stern cold glare, and a stern old song:
“Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.”…

Just then from the doorway, as fat as shotes
Came the cake-walk princes in their long red coats
Canes with a brilliant lacquer shine,
And tall silk hats that were red as wine.
And they pranced with their butterfly partners there,
Coal-black maidens with pearls in their hair,
Knee-skirts trimmed with the jassamine sweet,
And bells on their ankles and little black feet.
And the couples railed at the chant and the frown
Of the witch-men lean, and laughed them down.
(Oh, rare was the revel, and well worth while
That made those glowering witch-men smile.)

The cake-walk royalty then began
To walk for a cake that was tall as a man
To the tune of “Boomlay, boomlay, BOOM,”
While the witch-men laughed, with a sinister air,
And sang with the scalawags prancing there:
“Walk with care, walk with care,
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
And all of the other
Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Beware, beware, walk with care,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay,
BOOM.”

Oh, rare was the revel, and well worth while
That made those glowering witch-men smile.


III—THE HOPE OF THEIR RELIGION

A good old negro in the slums of the town
Preached at a sister for her velvet gown.
Howled at a brother for his low-down ways,
His prowling, guzzling, sneak-thief days.
Beat on the Bible till he wore it out
Starting the jubilee revival shout.
And some had visions, as they stood on chairs,
And sang of Jacob, and the golden stairs.
And they all repented, a thousand strong,
From their stupor and savagery and sin and wrong,
And slammed with their hymn-books till they shook the room
With “Glory, glory, glory,”
And “Boom, boom, BOOM.”

THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE JUNGLE WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.

And the gray sky opened like a new-rent veil
And showed the apostles with their coats of mail.
In bright white steel they were seated round,
And their fire-eyes watched where the Congo wound.
And the twelve Apostles, from their thrones on high,
Thrilled all the forest with their heavenly cry:
Sung to the tune of “Hark, ten thousand harps and voices”
“Mumbo-Jumbo will die in the jungle;
Never again will he hoo-doo you,
Never again will he hoo-doo you.”

Then along that river, a thousand miles
The vine-snared trees fell down in files.
Pioneer angels cleared the way
For a Congo paradise, for babes at play,
For sacred capitals, for temples clean.
Gone were the skull-faced witch-men lean.
There, where the wild ghost-gods had wailed,
A million boats of the angels sailed
With oars of silver, and prows of blue
And silken pennants that the sun shone through.
’Twas a land transfigured, ’twas a new creation.
Oh, a singing wind swept the negro nation,
And on through the backwoods clearing flew:—
To the tune of “Hark, ten thousand harps and voices”
“Mumbo-Jumbo is dead in the jungle.
Never again will he hoo-doo you.
Never again will he hoo-doo you.”

Redeemed were the forests, the beasts and the men
And only the vulture dared again
By the far, lone mountains of the moon
To cry, in the silence, the Congo tune:
“Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Mumbo … Jumbo … will … hoo-doo … you.”

Ickle Me Pickle Me Tickle Me Too

So, we've definitely learned that Emma likes being read to, especially fun sounds. In fact, I've discovered that I like reading to her. Even things that I wouldn't necessarily think of immediately for a baby can become perfect for reading. Like a few weeks ago I read her a chapter ("The Pinch Bug") from Tom Sawyer and we were both smiling all through. The other night I read her "The Congo" by Vachel Lindsay, which has all kinds of fun up and down rhythms ("Boomlay boomlay boomlay BOOM!"). And number one on her hit list so far:

"Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me Too"

Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too,
Went for a ride in a flying shoe,
"Hooray!"
"What fun!"
"It's time we flew!"
Said Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too.

Ickle was captain,
Pickle was crew,
And Tickle served coffee
and mulligan stew
As higher
And higher
And higher they flew,
Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too.

Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too,
Over the sun and beyond the blue.
"Hold on!"
"Stay in!"
"I hope we do!"
Cried Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too.

Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too
Never returned to the world they knew,
And nobody knows what's happened to
Dear Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me too.

Written by Shel Silverstein (1930-1999)

I think in this one it's that "oo" sound (shoe, flew, knew). Reminds us all of the scrunchy, stretchy, pursed lips face she used to make when she was tiny. Matt Huuuuuuuuuuughes!

Rise and Shine (aaaaaaaaargh)

Running running running through my head - blame it on my mother!!!


Rise and Shine
(Children of the Lord)
(The Arky Arky Song)
Written By: Unknown
Copyright Unknown

The Lord said to Noah:
There's gonna be a floody, floody
The Lord said to Noah:
There's gonna be a floody, floody
Get those children
out of the muddy, muddy
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

The Lord told Noah
To build him an arky, arky
The Lord told Noah
To build him an arky, arky
Build it out of
gopher barky, barky
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

He called for the animals,
They came in by twosie, twosies
He called for the animals,
They came in by twosie, twosies
Elephants and kangaroosie, roosies
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

It rained and it poured
For forty daysie, daysies
It rained and it poured
For forty daysie, daysies
Almost drove those animals crazy, crazies,
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

Then Noah he sent out
He sent out a dovey dovey
Noah he sent out
He sent out a dovey dovey
Dovey said "There's clear skies abovey-bovey"
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

The sun came out and
It dried up the landy landy
The sun came out and
It dried up the landy landy
Everything was fine and dandy, dandy
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord

The animals they came off
They came off by three-sies three-sies
Animals they came off
They came off by three-sies three-sies
Grizzly bears and chimpanzee-sies zee-sies
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord.

That is the end of,
The end of my story, story
That is the end of,
The end of my story, story
Everything is hunky dory, dory
Children of the Lord
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Rise and shine
And give God the glory, glory
Children of the Lord


... whew! make it stop...

week 2 back to work

(excepted from an email to my breastfeeding support friends)

So, week number two of full time work winds to a close… I hope this finds you all well and still happily home! I suppose this week has been easier, although it seems like I have a new emotion every two hours. Most importantly, Emma seems to be doing great. She smiles so often and laughs and she's got this new mischievous look that I love. It's sortof lopsided and she turns her head just a bit like she's shy and I just know in a year or two it's going to mean trouble! She's still eating as much as I can make and more - difficult to decide if it's more growth or just a new pattern - but she's wonderfully pudgy and playful and active and the formula doesn't seem to trouble her, so I'm learning to just relax and go with it. I've gotten to where when I pump, instead of worrying about whether it's too little or not, with every squeeze I think how this is another mouthful she won't have to drink of formula. Sortof like they said about breastfeeding at first - a day is better than none, a week is better than a day, three months is better than one… Whatever comes out is better than formula. So far the psychology of that seems to be working! :)
Getting used to the au pair is a different story. Again, Emma seems to be doing well with her. She never seems distressed in the mornings when I leave (as long as I smile - she doesn't seem to notice if the smile is a bit watery!), and when I get home in the evenings she's happy. Yesterday I got home and she was asleep. When she woke up she of course started to cry, but as soon as she saw me this huge smile lit up her face. Moments like that make everything worth it! Still, I watch like the mama bear that we all are, and I check her every day for rashes and mysterious bumps or bruises, and I search her face anxiously for any other possible signs of unhappiness. I do like the au pair, but admittedly it's not so easy getting used to having someone else living with us and getting to spend more time with Emma than I do. It's rewarding to know she's well-cared for when I see her smiling at the au pair, but there's also that stab of envy, especially when the au pair does something to make her laugh that I didn't know. This morning even Emma was all smiles with me, but when I left her with the au pair to get dressed, I could hear them "talking", and it was really like Emma was having a conversation with her! She was babbling and giggling. Made me want to throw my pajamas back on and play hooky and never leave the house again! On the flip side I suppose it's good, Emma gets exposed to other games and things that in truth the au pair has more experience at, just hard to watch. The au pair already promised that she basically wouldn't tell me if Emma did anything really dramatic (like walking) so that whenever she does it for me and my hsuband it will be (for us) the first time. The au pair told me the other day that someone at the grocery store mistook Emma for hers, and since they offered her a baby dicsount card she happily let the mistake go. She asked me later if I minded someone thinking Emma was hers. Even as I rationally said no, especially if she got discounts for it, my heart was screaming "Yes! Of course I mind!" That's MY baby! In some ways I think it's good that we're only planning to have the au pair for about 6 months. It gives Emma a great start, but I don't know if I could really manage having someone else make such a deep impression on her. I hear these stories of other families where the au pair was practically part of the family and stayed with them for years and years, and I can't imagine it. I just don't think I could do that.

Anyway, I suppose I have digressed far from the topic of breastfeeding, but it's all wrapped up together for me this week. Did have the experience yesterday of having to pump for the first time from an office not my own. I had a meeting across town for the day, so off I went with my little black backpack… After some awkwardness (mostly on my part), a kindly contact there donated his office for the cause. I find that surprisingly most people I've dealt with now have been supportive - it's mostly just me that feels weird asking! Did OK though, and probably every encounter like that will make me more confident doing this.

Funny, I've noticed that talking about Emma and breastfeeding tends to make me have letdown… In other words, time to go pump!

Week 1 - continued (also September 1)

OK, I admit - I am cheating here and pasting in an email I sent, but last week just getting a few emails out had me dangerously close to tears and meltdowns at work, and it's seems like my emotions change every five minutes...

This has definitely been a much harder week than the one with the grandmas. It was so much easier knowing that the two people watching her would probably give their lives for her. Also, then I knew that I would have some time off again. Being here really full time is like going back to school, but worse! And even though Melanie has been really good with Emma, we have had all sorts of rough spots in the "house rules" area. Some day I'll tell you that whole story, but suffice it to say I've considered not doing this several times seriously based on house stuff, and if she weren't so good with Emma she'd be gone by now… Also, as you see in the other email, pumping has been hard to get used to. I am determined to make it work as much as I can, but the guilt of not being able to stay 100% breast milk is getting to me. Glen keeps trying to remind me that we always said we would do what we could and not be unreasonable - formula fed babies like him survive just fine! But somehow I just thought since the nursing was going so well, why shouldn't pumping go well too? In fairness, Melanie says she thinks I am making a lot more milk than many women and there are a lot of mothers who can't produce enough even when breastfeeding normally, but still it lingers…

Emma seems to be happy though, that's the important thing. Of course, then I get the opposite emotion of how can she be so happy when I'm not there? Doesn't she miss me? Struggling with the realization that Melanie already knows some of her new tricks and noises better than I do. She discovered that Emma likes "Ickle me pickle me tickle me too" (… went to ride in a flying shoe… Shel Silverstein) and I am jealous that I didn't get to read it to her first… Melanie is also good at being creative and finding new things to do, and in the evenings, much as I love Emma, the brain is not quick enough to make up so many new things. Again, thankful that I still have the nursing. Selfish selfish selfish, but don't know what I would do without that to myself.

Week 1 back at work (written September 1)

Not surprisingly, Monday was very hard. Walking out of my house and leaving little Emma with the au pair may have been one of the hardest things I ever did, in fact. Even though we had a good week of orientation and I could clearly see how well she was doing with Emma and how Emma really is responding to her, I discovered that leaving your baby with someone who is not family goes against every single instinct in my body. I was so scared all day, and wildly convinced that I would get home and find them gone…Of course, they were not gone, and Emma was happy and smiling. So, it definitely seems like this week has been harder than on me than on her. So many emotions, and only half of th em probably reasonable. Questioning our choice of childcare, questioning my choice to go back to work at all. Dealing with work and the craziness here at FEMA with Hurricane Ernesto coming. The only good thing about having a hurricane coming our way is it leaves very little time at work to brood! Trying to work out the whole pumping thing and get myself on somewhat of a schedule each day too - not easy to do and be discrete with meetings every hour or so. My work did give me the key to a little "relaxation room" with an easy chair and a sink, so I have some privacy. Thankfully I have the support of senior leadership here (including two mothers - one of twins) who really want me to succeed in this nursing thing. That helps a lot. I also have the support of my supervisor - being a man, he really doesn't want to hear about it, but if I needed something he'd be there for me.

Physically it's been a bit challenging. I find I need to eat real food a lot more often than I used to (even more probably than when I was pregnant), so trying to squeeze in time to eat more than chips regularly. Also, the milk supply has been a little low. I think at the beginning of the week I was really stressed (go figure!), and I was not getting as much as I have in the past. At home with Emma was fine, but pumping I'm not quite getting enough to feed her all day while I'm at work. Luckily I had a bit frozen from a week or two ago. Slowly it seems like my "production" has been coming back up, but still a few ounces shy. So the au pair had to give her some formula for two days, which immediately made me feel so sad and like a failure! Part of me knows that she's still getting mostly breast milk and a bottle or two of formula won't hurt, but we were doing so well on the breastfeeding that I guess I just t hought pumping would go well too. It's probably going better than can reasonably be expected with so much change and worry, but we all want to be supermom, no? Guilt guilt guilt. My husband told me the problem is I see myself as Clark Kent and can't see the giant "S" on my chest that everyone else sees… Also, as predicted by the lactation consultant, Emma's sleep has been thrown totally off. Still getting at least 4 hours a night, but not consistently 6 anymore and the times are all off. Some nights I can't seem to get her off my breast at all. She is definitely making up for our time apart! Also, we've almost always gotten up between 3 and 4 to eat, but where we used to go back to sleep after, now she's been staying fussy and again not wanting to come off. She falls asleep latched firmly on (which is admittedly very sweet) and wakes up the instant I try to pull back. Something about that magic hour of sleep be tween 4 and 5 am apparently is very important to my body, because the couple of mornings now when I haven't been able to get it have been pretty rough. I do have to say, though, that on the flip side that 3 or 4 am feeding has become really important to me as a quiet time with her. No work, no au pair, no husband - just her and me and the quiet dark. I have nothing to focus on but her warm sleepy weight and the little noises she makes, and it reminds me over and over how completely amazing this is. You know, I think I sortof fell into breastfeeding originally as something I should do, but lately I've come to realize how much I like it and now I know I would choose it consciously again.