WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2008

Change is in the air (apartment, car, office, etc.) It seems like years since I’ve posted anything substantive. So, I’ll try to catch us up, but forgive the gaps and missing details. We’re almost settled into our new home. Rhett is ready to tear his hair out because, as he was saying every day since the move until Sunday, “Everything keeps moving!” That’s how I settle into a new space. I move things around – furniture, non-furniture. I keep moving things until they are in a place where they make sense. Sometimes I’ll get too exasperated with whatever it is, and then I get rid of it. I might also repurpose it. That could mean using it in a different way as it already is, or a new coat of paint, or a power saw. You really never know. So you can understand his frustration. But Sunday we agreed that I get to putter and move things around for another two weeks, then things will be still (wherever, and whatever they are). So, I now have 11 more days, and counting.  We’ve shifted from chaotic business to being a little less busy, but still living with that energy of changes and shifts, adjustments, transitions. You know… So, it’s an effort for me these days to take deeper breaths, and slower breaths, and consciously assert permission to “just be” for a moment. Daniel is rolling over all the time. Getting him to sleep or getting him to stay asleep is largely about convincing him to stop rolling around and be still. He sleeps on his stomach now, which the whole internet condemns, but our pediatrician advises us to tolerate. As he points out, the baby is going to sleep on whatever side he wants to now. He gets to decide. We’re doing well to confine him to the sleeping space. And that’s all true even now, before he crawls. I say “before he crawls” as if that weren’t a serious likelihood at any moment. He’s trying hard, and even achieved backward mobility for milliseconds at a time. Forward movement is imminent. People talk about babies achieving mobility as if it’s such a fabulous thing. Okay, sure, it’s pretty critical for healthy development and well-being; however, it’s also much harder! Yes, I look forward to my little giant being able to walk around outside of my arms (and my aching back and neck) because he is heavy. But mobile kids are just plain harder. It’s scary to see them running around on those unsure little legs. They call them “toddlers” for a reason. They fall, they get hurt, they stick their fingers in dangerous places and put dangerous things in their mouths. (Warning: Gross sentence to follow.) Last night, at a client’s house, I saw a toddler crawl across a living room at lightning speed and with almost no warning nearly got a cockroach in his mouth. There aren’t any cockroaches in our home (that we know of), but we’re going to have to be so incredibly vigilant about not putting our papers on the floor anymore, never leaving bathroom doors open or toilet seats up, etc. Our daily habits have to change – again. Daniel has all-but outgrown the co-sleeper, and we do technically have a crib, but it’s not here yet. Rhett will have to go get it, which means borrowing a truck, also not a problem, but it’s a headache. Another transition. At this moment, Daniel is napping in our bed, and I’m watching like Hawk-Woman to make sure he doesn’t roll out of it. Or get his face too into the sheets. Can you see how this might make me nervous? But he’s breathing. I promise. I keep checking. We’re also trying to get out of the habit of putting Daniel down to sleep with a bottle. He doesn’t have any teeth quite yet, but that, too, is imminent. And when the teeth arrive, good dental hygiene requires that they not suck to sleep. So, we’ve been using a cd I burned off of an Itunes podcast (Dr. Harry Henshaw) with relaxing music to help him make the transition into sleep. Last night and today I’ve used the same cd, and massage with sesame oil. I’m hoping he will associate the smell of the oil and the massage with the music, and therefore, with sleep. At first he seems frustrated because he still associates that cd with food, but he isn’t fussy for long before he decides to relax into sleep. He really is a good sleeper. We’ve been very lucky in that regard. While we’re in the mood for change (not), it’s also time to start introducing solid foods. Here are a couple of snapshots of our efforts. We ultimately figured out it's easier to clean up a nearly-naked baby. School is back in session for all of Rhett’s and my clients, which makes it a little harder for us to schedule all our various appointments in a way that allows us to avoid using non-us childcare. But Rhett and I are lucky to have a trusted friend, A, who comes on Fridays after she finishes her indoctrination in corporate values (here, by “corporate values,” I mean the values of large groups of usually white men who cloak their malice in a legal entity, upon which our genius government has bestowed its own rights, privileges, and liabilities distinct from those of its members. Swell). It’s otherwise known as “business associations” at the law school. I took it last year. Painful. The Daniel loves her. She loves him. It’s fabulous. Rhett and I can leave for appointments or steep ourselves in paperwork. And then, there’s this little troublemaker. No, he’s not staying. Rhett calls him Gomer. I can never remember that, so I variously call him “Homer,” “Gonzo,” and “Mo.” During the storm last week, our friend G came over to drop off a tripod, and as she was leaving she heard a pitiful mewing. He looks like he’s 8-10 weeks old, not neutered, and was starving. He’s sweet, but our cat, Dinah hates him. And he isn’t really all that fond of our dog, Rex. Fortunately, G’s sister just moved back from Paris, and she’s adopting Gomer. But she has to adopt a place to live first. Gomer’s here until then. I hope she gets settled in soon.  Speaking of Rex, he tried to die again the other day. It’s a long, painful, scary, miserable story. (We really, really love him) and I won’t go into it with all the details. But suffice it to say that bottle nipples do, in fact, plug dogs up. Literally. And he nearly died. He still tries to get to the baby bottles. The only upside to his flirtation with the other side is that he was actually not a complete spazz during our houseparty for the Obama acceptance speech. We had a total of about 22 people here (in our still not-quite-moved-into townhome). Rexie would have been a complete menace - a loving, licking, begging menace - but a menace nonetheless. Instead, this was he. See the shaved down part for his catheter line? Poor Rexieboy! That might be it for now. It might not, but baby is stirring and I think I'll grab a snack before full waking takes place. POSTED BY EMILIE BROWN AT 10:26 AM