a year of grace

The year 2010 obviously brought with it significant change and revelation, but in the craziness of new parenthood, ever-evolving careers, not to mention the every-day I didn't necessarily start out the year with well-defined goals or intentions. And, in retrospect, it's a good thing as it's unlikely I would have been able to stick to much of anything. Just like my attempts at P90X, regular yoga practice, a daily swim, drinking more water and green tea, learning French and to play the guitar - larger goals would have been discarded or at least forgotten along the way. But a yoga instructor said something to me soon after the turtle was born, "9 months in/ 9 months out." Meaning it takes a woman the same amount of time to create life, as it does for her to rediscover her own life (and individuality) after the birth of her child.  And now, 9 months out, I think I understand what she meant. And I am, slowly, starting to find myself again - and I have been surprised to learn, at least I hope, that it is in fact a better version of me.

In any case, given this I think I can begin 2011 with more well-defined intentions. But rather than some kind of weight, fitness or learning goal I decided I wanted a year of something...but of what? A year of gratitude? A year of beauty? A year of contemplation? A year of simplicity? And after much consideration I have decided on A Year of Grace.

I don't fully understand what one means, hell what I mean, by the word grace...but I think it has something to do with gratitude, beauty, mercy, kindness, creativity and intention. I expect it has little to do with any one person's vision of God...though some may disagree. I do imagine it has a great deal to do with nature and human kind. In any case, I hope to find some form of grace every day in 2011.

cloth diapering update

Yesterday's post was about breastfeeding, so I thought it only appropriate that today's post be about cloth diapering. For some reason, I see these two activities going hand in hand - both contributing, I hope, to a greener and more cost-conscious lifestyle.

So yes, we're still cloth diapering. We haven't gone "all the way", we still use a paper diaper at night and when we're "on the road." Those decisions were more about convenience than anything. A paper diaper quite frankly keeps our little one drier at night, meaning in most circumstances a longer stretch of sleep. And, even at my best and most patient, I'm not up for carrying a soiled diaper around town.

That said, cloth diapering has been much easier than I anticipated. As mentioned in previous posts, I contibute the ease to the class we took at Metro Minis on the Upper East Side. Without knowing the tricks of the trade, we might have very well become frustrated early on. But we have a system and it works. I would suppose the only serious downside is the excess laundry - which I suppose would be easier should we have a washer and dryer on site. I can't imagine how nice it would be to throw in a load of wash every night---which I know isn't great for the environment, but would be a wonderful option. Truth is we stay on top of the diaper laundry, doing the wash at least a couple times a week. But because we're laundering the turtle's things so often, I find that Chris' and my laundry tends to pile up. It usually takes one of us running low on underthings, to kick us into gear.

nursing update

Nine and one-half months and I'm still nursing. We supplement during the day. My milk supply dwindled when I returned to work, and I could never produce enough to keep my little guy nourished while I was gone (note to expectant mothers - store, store, store during maternity leave). In any case, I nurse every morning and evening and then throughout the night on demand. Fortunately, the turtle transitions comfortably from bottle to breast.

We do expect that he's going through another growth spurt - how that's possible given how long he already is, I don't know - but a change in feeding schedule points in that direction. Yesterday he cried out for food (and as my readers know, the turtle isn't much of a crier) about every 2.5 hours. He also had a tough night - a lot of whimpering (could be teething), but he also woke twice at about 12:30 and again at 3:30. I nursed him back to sleep both times.

I am so pleased I have been as successful breastfeeding as I have been. It's been frustrating at times. I suffered from a lot of insecurity about my milk supply and some resentment when I returned to work. But all in all, I feel it's been a successful adventure. So, as originally planned, I expect to breastfeed mornings and nights for another 3 months (to his first birthday) and then if we're still both doing well; another 6. The joke is if they are old enough to "ask for it" it's time to stop. But that's an American bias. Truth is, womens' bodies are equipped to nurse their children for years and many do well into the second and third year. I won't go that long, but 18 months seems reasonable.

snowed in

The snow began falling just as Chris, the turtle and I were heading out the door yesterday afternoon. We were meeting friends for brunch - and not to go on a complete tangent but Sanford's Peanut Butter Pancakes were just what I needed to wrap up the holiday weekend. Yummy! By the time we got home a good three inches had fallen. The storm continued through the night and we woke up to over a foot of snow. Of course everyone is all up in arms. Our super was cursing his way through the first clearing at 6:00am. But Chris and I, well we feel right at home.

I tossed on my fleece and snow boots, and trudged across the street first thing- snow or not, there were diapers to be done. And now, the turtle is napping and Chris is in the kitchen starting the sauce for his world-famous (or at least apartment famous) lasagna. It's the food I dream about - and a top runner for my "last meal" selection, should I ever have need to choose a "last meal."

So we're snowed in, and it's heavenly. Santa delivered a white Christmas after all. Who knows....maybe the turtle will wake up with a tooth. Now that would be a Christmas miracle.

first christmas

Santa didn't deliver a tooth as we had hoped, but we had a wonderful Christmas anyway. We began the long weekend with a visit to Leonardo's Last Supper: A Vision by Peter Greenaway at the Park Avenue Armory. I'd never seen anything like it: part art installation, part film, part theatrical event. Though I wasn't entirely sure how baby appropriate the exhibit was, we took the turtle any way. And I'm so glad we did. He loves light and music --- and so much of the presentation involved both. For 45 minutes, he was mesmerized by the color and the movement and the sound. It was a beautiful way to kick off the holiday. As my readers know, I aim to have a spiritual life but I struggle with degrees of faith - and it is an experience like this that makes me believe in something far greater than myself.

Christmas Eve, Chris, the turtle and I joined our dear friend B at a Christmas party in Kew Gardens. And, talk about an experience. After getting off the train, the four of us walked along the Union Turnpike through a typically ugly, urban landscape. But within minutes we entered one of the most charming neighborhoods I've ever seen - and have most certainly seen in New York City. We drank egg nog, ate sushi and dumplings, and Chris caught up with one of the hosts - an actress with whom he never worked directly, but who had spent a fair amount of time at the regional theater where Chris spent the early part of his career. Eventually a far too skinny Santa visited the house, and the turtle had a chance to redeem himself - actually smiling for pictures this time around. We then followed Santa's sleigh (yes, he was in a sleigh -hooked to a car - but still a sleigh) to the square outside the Inn at Kew Gardens Station. There we sang Christmas carols and drank wassail. On more than one occasion we needed to remind ourselves that we were in Queens and not some sleepy little European town 40 minutes outside Prague.

Yesterday morning (Christmas) we woke at 6:30am, the turtle made it through about five presents before he was completely wiped out. But his two hour morning nap, gave Chris and I plenty of time to drink some coffee open a present or two and enjoy the holiday - just the two of us. Around 10:00, the turtle woke and we Skyped with both sets of grandparents. Thank God for technology...if we couldn't see my folks' and in-laws faces every few days, I'm not sure how I would have survived these last few months. After a great day of gift-giving and receiving (I have a beautiful black coral sea turtle around my neck as we speak) we joined one of my most beloved book club buddies, J, her sister, roommates and friends for Christmas dinner (wine, champagne, veal, lasagna, bacon wrapped dates - amazing).

If there's one thing this Christmas has taught me it's this: no one can ever replace family, and my readers know how desperately I wish we lived closer to "home." But, the turtle is surrounded, every day, by people who love him, who celebrate his successes, and marvel at how truly special he is. And people who provide a great deal of support to his daddy and mama.

So here's to surrogate families - cheers!

Merry Christmas.

sleepless nights and no tooth in sight

What do sleep and the turtle's teeth have in common? Right now we're seeing little of either. The last two nights have been rough. The turtle just can't stay asleep for more than a couple of hours at a time - and when he wakes, he's not fully waking but rather, with eyes closed, he thrashes from side to side while either crying or whimpering. When I pick him up he rubs his mouth against my shoulder, I assume in an attempt to relieve some of his discomfort. And, at least so far, there's not a tooth in sight.

Some would say, just let him cry. And, who am I to judge any one's parenting style - I'm just taking it a day at a time myself - but "cry it out" just isn't how Chris and I are doing things. I suppose we have the luxury of attentive night caring because a) we're co-parenting, meaning we literally tag team our way through the hours and b) sleepless nights are an anomaly.  That said, it doesn't make them any easier.

So teething. Any tricks to getting those little pearly whites to break through? We've heard reports that two of the turtle's friends (6 mos and 9 mos.) have their first choppers but I fear we're weeks? months? away. Suggestions welcomed.

friends

The postman knocked on my door and delivered The Hunger Games Trilogy. During brunch the other day, I mentioned in passing that I wanted to read the books and my friend, in her typically generous style overheard, ordered and ta da, the books are in my house ready to read.

I often talk about my blessings: a smart, compassionate, and dangerously handsome husband. An amazing family. A good job in a shaky economy. And of course the turtle - my missing piece. But I sometimes fail to mention how truly incredible my friends are.

And see, friends never came really easy to me. I had to two best girlfriends when I was young. One in Junior High, and another in High School and both relationships went horribly sour. Those girls broke my heart much more than any boy ever did. In college, things were better and I'm still in touch with the girls I met as an undergrad. But even then...when I hear about cousins and colleagues, connecting with roommates and sorority sisters over cocktails and girls' nights out, I find that my experiences were and are radically different than the norm.

But coming to New York and surviving in New York, forced me to make connections. Real connections with women I could love and respect. Women that knew that I'm not a hang out every Saturday night kind of gal...but rather someone that wanted to constantly pick up where we last left off as if time never passed. And I found that. It didn't happen over night. It took me years really. But I have it now...and I really love my girls. They are smart, and ambitious, and successful, and funny, and gorgeous, and talented. And I am so lucky. Just down right lucky to have them in my life.

tired

Not sure why it is but I'm running a little ragged these days. It must be that I haven't really bounced back since falling ill after the Thanksgiving holiday. And I know I need to get back into the gym and pay more attention to my diet (i.e. make sure I'm eating). But for some reason I feel like time is slipping away and I struggle getting everything I want done - done in the few hours I have before I leave for work or the few hours I have when I get home.

All of that said, I need to stop making excuses and just get back to a manageable routine. Perhaps a new goal - a fitness goal - would be valuable. I don't think I'll be running any marathons in the next year...but I might like to do a 30 day Bikram challenge next fall, and to do so I would really need to kick things into gear.

But before any of that can happen, my little guy has to have an earlier bedtime. This 10:30 sometimes 11:00 schedule is killing me. After all it's a good hour after I want to be asleep myself. Maybe that's why I'm so tired.

all i want for christmas is...

...my two front teeth.

I mean seriously, the turtle has been teething for 6 months and the poor thing has  had enough. Last night, he was chewing on every finger, obviously trying to relieve some of the discomfort. And finally, after falling asleep in a puddle of drool, he continued to whimper through the night. Yes, a tooth or two would be a welcomed gift. And this nursing mama swears here and now that she will not complain about the biting which I'm sure will follow. No, I'll figure that out. We just want some teeth.

the real santa

Having seen A Miracle on 34th Street dozens of times as a little girl, I always believed that the real Santa worked at Macy's in Herald Square. So, fighting the department store crowds, and riding the escalator to the 8th floor with the turtle in tow was a real treat. And I must say, I think there's a very good chance we met the "real" Santa. Because, though he looks a little ornery in the photo, he was an absolute dear and full of magic. Dressed beautifully, with apple cheeks and a twinkle in his eye, he whispered in my little guy's ear, "It's your first Christmas and I've been waiting to meet you."

disorganized

I'm finding that I'm having a hard time staying organized. And yes having an I Phone in January (Thank you Verizon and Apple) will help, but I can't rely on technology alone to bring some sense of order back into my life. I think I'm feeling especially scatter-brained for a couple of reasons:

1) Work: I work in an environment that performs in a what do we need to do today to get ready for tomorrow cycle and that doesn't always mesh well with my "let's plan next semester/ next year" mentality. The last few weeks have been especially challenging as we've been implementing a new university-wide process that has a direct impact on the success of my team's programs and events. Day to day...I'm just trying to figure out a) what's been done b) what needs to be done and c) what is everyone else doing.

2) Vacation + Illness makes for lost time: As my readers know, the whole lot of us caught some degree of cold (mine turned into strep) when we got home from our vacation. So I'm just now, two full weeks later, getting back into the swing of things. And as a result everything seems a little left undone (bills, laundry, thank you notes, christmas shopping, catching up with friends.) Everything's been on the back burner and is beginning to boil over at once.

3) Apathy: To be quite honest, other than hanging out with my boys I have passion for little else.Yes, at the heart of it I want to spend every free moment with Chris and the turtle. So at the end of the work day the last thing I want to do is "work" some more. I don't want to run, swim, shop, clean, iron. I'd much rather watch movies, eat dinner, play peek-a-boo, read stories and dance around the apartment in our pjs.

tales of a sick baby (continued)

Though the congestion and the crusty morning-eyes have overstayed their welcome, we think the turtle's finally starting to feel better. There's nothing sadder than red, tired eyes, stuck shut with goo. And boy has he had just about enough of the face wiping. Three weeks ago he was patient. He didn't necessarily relish the constant attention - I mean who likes to have saline squirted up their nostrils and muck pulled from their eyelashes? - but he tolerated it. Not any more. The turtle screams bloody murder at just the sight of a washcloth. Poor thing. As tired as Chris and I are of his being sick, the turtle feels ten-fold.

But even in the light of the coughing and the wheezing and the sleepless nights, the three of us have still managed to experience moments of pure joy. Like last night's bath in the "big boy" tub where the turtle had plenty of room to kick and splash and throw his boats around. Or his fascination with his toy box. Not the toys inside but the actual container. We tip the box (really just a fabric covered cube) over on its side and let the turtle pull everything out one by one. Once he's done so, he pulls the box close to his chest and chews on one side. This little game has only confirmed that Santa will most likely deliver empty boxes this year, knowing perfectly well that the turtle will find much more enjoyment in the container than its contents.

everyone's asleep

It's 8:00pm. Chris, who seems to have finally caught the turtle's and my cold, is asleep in the bedroom. The turtle is dreaming in his crib. And the cat, lies next to me on the couch, curled up against my legs. And after watching a rerun of today's Oprah, I sit here eating an orange and staring at the Christmas tree and I can't help but think of all of the things for which I'm thankful.

end of weekend anxiety

People who have known me for a long time often remark how much motherhood has done to "chill me out." And they are right, a long list of anxieties shortened about the moment I learned I was pregnant. That said I become horribly anxious on Sunday nights.

My end of weekend nerves take root in a lot of different emotions. There's sadness that I have to leave my boys in the morning. There's the pressure to be successful. There's the responsibility to care for my family. There's the uncertainty about what lies ahead. But, as silly as this sound, what causes me the greatest amount of anxiety on Sunday night is the fear that I may not have enough stamina to make it. I require a lot of rest and as I watch the turtle fight sleep as the hours tick away, I can feel the weight of the day ahead on my shoulders. And I begin to wonder how I will find the energy to be "on" for my students and colleagues. How I will find the strength to be patient, creative and flexible. How I will remain alert enough to pay attention to the details and avoid errors. And then I resent that if I have to dig into my reserves to find the stamina for work I may not have a lot left by the time I get home.

christmas magic

We haven't had a Christmas tree since 2001; our first Christmas in New York. Since then we've spent most of the holidays away, usually back west- one year abroad. But even when we've been in NYC -  we just didn't want to rent a car, go to storage, pull down the lights, the ornaments and Christmas dishes. Too much work to plan. Too little square footage to decorate.

But now that we have the turtle. Well, needless to say, Christmas has taken on new meaning. And as my boys sit in the other room, fighting sleep and watching football, I write, a little drunk in the magic of a beautifully lit Christmas tree. And I can't help but remember pouring through the back pages of the Sears catalog with my brother, circling the toys we would highlight in our letters to Santa, or the mornings in front of the fire, tearing through red and green tissue.

Yes, this is just one more way the turtle has brought magic into our lives. He's brought Christmas back into our home.

snotty nose

Some good news: the turtle doesn't have strep. Not only am I delighted because I just can't imagine my little guy feeling that miserable but the news helps a little with the guilt factor. Oh, I still feel plenty guilty as I am perfectly aware that whatever he does have he pulled from my cornucopia of illnesses - but I'd be lying if I didn't say I would feel significantly worse if he had strep.

So what does my little guy have? Well he has two red crusty eyes (and yes, the doctor ruled out pink eye as well), a deep nasty cough, and a nose that won't stop running. I always wondered how parents allowed their kids to run around with snotty noses - well now I know. Sometimes you just can't keep up with it. No sooner do I wipe down the turtle's face than there are two more rivers of snot running down from his nostrils to his mouth. It's gross. Not that I adore either, but I prefer poop to snot. Just sayin'.

But it seems he's not the only sick baby in town. We were set to brunch with our birth class buddies this Sunday. We were remaining hopeful that the turtle's symptoms would dissipate by then. But our hosts are sick as well. 'Tis the season.

mama's been sick and the turtle is too

I was hopeful that I would return from our full week on the Liberty of the Seas feeling well-rested and ready for the holiday season and upcoming work events. But unfortunately, I got on the ship with a minor cold  and got off the ship with Strep. So, here I am three full days post our homecoming, returning to work tired and overwhelmed.

And the worst part is I think the turtle is sick. Chris and I took shifts last night, keeping the little guy close, clearing his nasal passages, bouncing and cuddling him back to sleep when his congestion or coughing startled him awake. I did everything the doctor said. I washed my hands raw, walked around with antibacterial gel in my pocket. I even avoided kisses for two days (needless to say this was a near impossible feat) but the little guy's runny nose and crusty eyes make me think he has indeed caught some degree of his mama's illness.