Dyami's thought when he heard the pump start last night:
"Hmmm. Is she listening to dance music or something?"
Old thinking: pump monotony. New thinking: techno dance party!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
oh, and...
Regarding the Real Mom's post: I would tag people, but I only read two blogs. One is the one that tagged me; the other has already been tagged. So there.
So if you're reading this, and you are a mom, real or otherwise, consider yourself tagged! Go! Blog like the wind!
So if you're reading this, and you are a mom, real or otherwise, consider yourself tagged! Go! Blog like the wind!
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
pumping
I borrowed a breast pump from my friend Susan and tried it for the first time today. It took me months to ask if I could use it, a few weeks to pick it up, a few days to try it, and only two pumpings to decide that it's a complete pain in the ass.
Ladies, those of you who actually have to do this for your babies, my hat is off to you.
The idea was that if I could pump a little bit, Dyami might be able to rock her to sleep. Or we might be able to go out to dinner without worrying as much about her waking up.
I would like those things, but it is so not worth the effort to pump.
First off, you have to sterilize all the equipment. My first pumping I ran like a hospital with tongs and clean towels. Second pumping i was a bit more laissez faire, but still careful. I bet moms that pump at work are using the paper towels in the office bathroom to wipe out the bottles for use. Geez, sterilizing is a pain in the butt.
And then there's the actual sitting there with the suction things chomping at your nipples. It's not painful, but neither is it pleasant. First time, I thought, "well, it's not great, but it's not terrible, either." Second time, I think my breasts remembered the sensation, because it was a lot more uncomfortable.
Total time spent was probably nearly two hours (what with cleaning preparing and pumping) and I got a whopping one ounce of breastmilk! I'm sure if I were diligent and kept at this every night, I could work up to more, but I have other things to do with my time.
But to be honest, I'm glad I tried. Now I know that I don't want to, and that I'm not just crazily stubborn or idealistic or anything. Pumping sucks.
Ha! pumping sucks! How true!
Ladies, those of you who actually have to do this for your babies, my hat is off to you.
The idea was that if I could pump a little bit, Dyami might be able to rock her to sleep. Or we might be able to go out to dinner without worrying as much about her waking up.
I would like those things, but it is so not worth the effort to pump.
First off, you have to sterilize all the equipment. My first pumping I ran like a hospital with tongs and clean towels. Second pumping i was a bit more laissez faire, but still careful. I bet moms that pump at work are using the paper towels in the office bathroom to wipe out the bottles for use. Geez, sterilizing is a pain in the butt.
And then there's the actual sitting there with the suction things chomping at your nipples. It's not painful, but neither is it pleasant. First time, I thought, "well, it's not great, but it's not terrible, either." Second time, I think my breasts remembered the sensation, because it was a lot more uncomfortable.
Total time spent was probably nearly two hours (what with cleaning preparing and pumping) and I got a whopping one ounce of breastmilk! I'm sure if I were diligent and kept at this every night, I could work up to more, but I have other things to do with my time.
But to be honest, I'm glad I tried. Now I know that I don't want to, and that I'm not just crazily stubborn or idealistic or anything. Pumping sucks.
Ha! pumping sucks! How true!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
lettuce
So my friend Melissa (aka Hack Mommy) tagged me for the Real Moms meme. (I know, I know, I don't really know what that means, either, but it's all technofancy and such and I'm honored and etcetera). I gather that this means I post something witty/profound about what real moms do. I link to the Real Moms site (not once, but twice! what can I say? I'm an overachiever) Then I get (hopefully) included in a cool list of other things moms do.
So. Real moms wash lettuce.
In my case it was two large heads of green leaf, and one head of romaine. This is the second week in a row I have washed lettuce. Growing up, washing lettuce was one of my least favorite chores, along with cleaning the cat litter, so now I'm more of the 'buy it pre-washed and bagged at Trader Joe's' type of girl.
So why am I washing it now? I've joined a CSA.
A CSA is a Community Supported Agriculture group, which means I get a box full of produce from Be Wise Ranch farm in San Diego. They include what is in season, and what they are picking that week. They apparently have several acres of lettuce, because we have a lot of lettuce. Last week I gave away half of our lettuce to my salad-friendly parents, and we still had a half a head of green leaf and half a head of romaine left to finish when I went to pick up our box this week.
So imagine my delight when I opened up our box and found three more heads of lettuce!
I'm a reasonably inventive cook, and I like vegetables, and I am willing to make a variety of dishes from one vegetable (mashed, roasted, scalloped turnips! Roasted, sauteed, chopped chard!), but see, there isn't much to do with lettuce except make salads. A lot of salads. Salads when we already have a lot of other vegetables to eat!
Now don't get me wrong, I think the CSA is the way to go for us right now. I like that we're supporting local farmers, and not buying packaging-heavy, pesticide-laden produce that has been picked six months ago and shipped from China. I hope my daughter inherits a world where you might actually meet the farmer that grew your lettuce, rather than finding out on the news that the arugula you just ate might be infected with e coli because all greens move through a central plant in Nitpick, Idaho for washing in central, bacteria-friendly tubs.
But this idealism means a lot of lettuce leaves. I filled one side of our sink with cold water, and floated each head of lettuce inside. Cut the cores and watched the milky juice ooze out. Observed the lovely roseate pattern of the core. Swished off the bugs (one of which was still alive--a good sign, I think), threw the wet leaves into my salad spinner, and spun off the excess water. Placed the leaves onto paper towels, wrapped up the bundle, and put it lovingly into a plastic bag.
Well, that was for the first head of lettuce. I got a lot less loving on heads 2 and 3.
Ah, good intentions. Sometimes the attractiveness of idealism goes down the drain with the lettuce bugs and the sandy soil from my local farmer.
So real moms wash that damned lettuce. Even if real moms resent the lettuce while they're doing it.
So. Real moms wash lettuce.
In my case it was two large heads of green leaf, and one head of romaine. This is the second week in a row I have washed lettuce. Growing up, washing lettuce was one of my least favorite chores, along with cleaning the cat litter, so now I'm more of the 'buy it pre-washed and bagged at Trader Joe's' type of girl.
So why am I washing it now? I've joined a CSA.
A CSA is a Community Supported Agriculture group, which means I get a box full of produce from Be Wise Ranch farm in San Diego. They include what is in season, and what they are picking that week. They apparently have several acres of lettuce, because we have a lot of lettuce. Last week I gave away half of our lettuce to my salad-friendly parents, and we still had a half a head of green leaf and half a head of romaine left to finish when I went to pick up our box this week.
So imagine my delight when I opened up our box and found three more heads of lettuce!
I'm a reasonably inventive cook, and I like vegetables, and I am willing to make a variety of dishes from one vegetable (mashed, roasted, scalloped turnips! Roasted, sauteed, chopped chard!), but see, there isn't much to do with lettuce except make salads. A lot of salads. Salads when we already have a lot of other vegetables to eat!
Now don't get me wrong, I think the CSA is the way to go for us right now. I like that we're supporting local farmers, and not buying packaging-heavy, pesticide-laden produce that has been picked six months ago and shipped from China. I hope my daughter inherits a world where you might actually meet the farmer that grew your lettuce, rather than finding out on the news that the arugula you just ate might be infected with e coli because all greens move through a central plant in Nitpick, Idaho for washing in central, bacteria-friendly tubs.
But this idealism means a lot of lettuce leaves. I filled one side of our sink with cold water, and floated each head of lettuce inside. Cut the cores and watched the milky juice ooze out. Observed the lovely roseate pattern of the core. Swished off the bugs (one of which was still alive--a good sign, I think), threw the wet leaves into my salad spinner, and spun off the excess water. Placed the leaves onto paper towels, wrapped up the bundle, and put it lovingly into a plastic bag.
Well, that was for the first head of lettuce. I got a lot less loving on heads 2 and 3.
Ah, good intentions. Sometimes the attractiveness of idealism goes down the drain with the lettuce bugs and the sandy soil from my local farmer.
So real moms wash that damned lettuce. Even if real moms resent the lettuce while they're doing it.
Monday, March 26, 2007
more skills
I kept tuning in to the two blogs that I read, and for a while neither of them had written anything. For shame! People, don't you know I need the entertainment in the morning to go along with my Empress Tea and Dear Abby?
Then I realized I hadn't written anything myself in days.
So this is what's new on the home front. Lucy's sleep schedule is all over the map, but it's not a bad all over the nap (her night time sleep has actually been better! and it wasn't bad
before!). It's just unpredictable. And she has a pincer grip now! Which means she can pick up all of the lint on the floor and put it in her mouth! And I just thought we weren't going to start solids for a while!
She is also pulling herself up onto things, like the low hearth in front of our fireplace and our friend Chris's legs. Gosh, this little girl is strong.
And finally, occasionally she tips her head back and forth, like Indians do when they're nodding yes. Not sure what she's agreeing with, but it's darn cute!
See, this post isn't very witty, but it's chock-full of info about Lucy! Which makes it interesting!
Okay, people, you get what you pay for.
Then I realized I hadn't written anything myself in days.
So this is what's new on the home front. Lucy's sleep schedule is all over the map, but it's not a bad all over the nap (her night time sleep has actually been better! and it wasn't bad
before!). It's just unpredictable. And she has a pincer grip now! Which means she can pick up all of the lint on the floor and put it in her mouth! And I just thought we weren't going to start solids for a while!She is also pulling herself up onto things, like the low hearth in front of our fireplace and our friend Chris's legs. Gosh, this little girl is strong.
And finally, occasionally she tips her head back and forth, like Indians do when they're nodding yes. Not sure what she's agreeing with, but it's darn cute!
See, this post isn't very witty, but it's chock-full of info about Lucy! Which makes it interesting!
Okay, people, you get what you pay for.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Humble Pie
For those of you avid readers out there (Surely there are dozens...? A dozen? Three?) I want to prepare myself a hearty dish of humble pie. A while ago I wrote a scathing post about a doctor's office experience. A very scathing post. I didn't mention the doctor's name, but it has come to my attention that he (gulp) saw the post. And was understandably hurt, since he saw that before he got my (much more reasonable) letter outlining some concerns I had about my experience.
Now, this doctor is a nice guy. And his staff is nice. And I might have had some frustrations with them, but they were always respectful to me. Even when pointing out how I wasn't respectful on a public, only somewhat-anonymous forum.
It turns out writing things in anger isn't so cool.
Especially on a blog.
So here is my public apology. I have also deleted that earlier, rather ugly post. I am sorry, and I hope this apology goes some way to making things right.
Sigh. I kept wanting to know if people were actually reading this thing. I just didn't imagine that it might be a _bad_ thing.
Mmmm. This pie is, um, tasty? Well, it makes me feel better, and that's something.
Now, this doctor is a nice guy. And his staff is nice. And I might have had some frustrations with them, but they were always respectful to me. Even when pointing out how I wasn't respectful on a public, only somewhat-anonymous forum.
It turns out writing things in anger isn't so cool.
Especially on a blog.
So here is my public apology. I have also deleted that earlier, rather ugly post. I am sorry, and I hope this apology goes some way to making things right.
Sigh. I kept wanting to know if people were actually reading this thing. I just didn't imagine that it might be a _bad_ thing.
Mmmm. This pie is, um, tasty? Well, it makes me feel better, and that's something.
Monday, March 19, 2007
matchy-matchy
My cousin Melissa (we call her Missy) brought over some hand-me-down baby clothes on Saturday. I was very grateful for them, because Lucy has actually grown out of some things and threatens to keep growing. (For those of you who don't read my blog regularly (for shame!) I was sort of contemptuous of baby clothes a few months ago, just because the influx of clothes after her birth was so overwhelming. Luckily the spigot seems to have slowed to a more manageable trickle). I was contemplating buying clothes. Gasp!!
Anyway, she brought over a whole big bag of beautiful clothes, many of which featured cute lace, nice fabrics, ribbons, embroidery, etc. They were all in good condition.
So what do I do? I get churlish about the whole thing, of course.
Not because of Missy--I really truly appreciated the gift. And the clothes themselves are useful.
I got surly because I finally realized why baby clothes are so annoying.
See, instead of having separates, like normal clothes, where one top might match another bottom, baby clothes are super matchy-matchy. Little dresses paired with matching bloomers. Cute tops with exactly matching bottoms. Or the truly horrific combination: matching onsie, hat, pants, socks and baby blanket. AHHHHHH!
This increases the volume of the number of clothes you actually need to make a wardrobe. Instead of having, say, three pairs of pants and ten shirts you can mix and match, you have twenty pants and forty shirts, none of which go with each other.
It's even worse with baby socks. Then you have twenty different pairs that you have to keep straight. That means the washing machine isn't allowed to eat any and you can't accidentally leave one on your friend's lawn (as I did the other day) or on the floor of a restaurant (this also happened). Or that they aren't allowed to fall off (ha! my side!) We went from ninety pairs (mostly hand-me-down) to twenty when I gave some of them back to the people who let us borrow them (I thought ninety pairs was too many! How naive!). Now we're down to five single non-matching socks. So I bought ten pairs of identical white socks at Target. I wish they had generic pants and shirts to go with them.
Actually, that's not entirely true. I do think the clothes are lovely, and now that Lucy's getting slightly easier to dress (she can sit up while I pull stuff over her head!) I am more into clothes in general. Plus I am not sleep-deprived. When you are sleep-deprived, the baby clothes madness seems like a cruel joke.
So now that the larger clothes are organized into sizes and packed away for later, and the currently-fitting ones are tucked into baskets on Lucy's changing table, I am much less churlish and surly*. I even put her into cute clothes for church! Little jeans, a hoodie, and a flowered shirt! She looked adorable! Until the pants got wet in the sink in the changing room and then she was just in a diaper and shirt and hoodie after the service, when everyone actually saw her.
Sigh.
*Confession: I mostly just wrote this post for the chance to use "churlish" and "surly" several times. Don't those words just roll off the tongue?
Anyway, she brought over a whole big bag of beautiful clothes, many of which featured cute lace, nice fabrics, ribbons, embroidery, etc. They were all in good condition.
So what do I do? I get churlish about the whole thing, of course.
Not because of Missy--I really truly appreciated the gift. And the clothes themselves are useful.
I got surly because I finally realized why baby clothes are so annoying.
See, instead of having separates, like normal clothes, where one top might match another bottom, baby clothes are super matchy-matchy. Little dresses paired with matching bloomers. Cute tops with exactly matching bottoms. Or the truly horrific combination: matching onsie, hat, pants, socks and baby blanket. AHHHHHH!
This increases the volume of the number of clothes you actually need to make a wardrobe. Instead of having, say, three pairs of pants and ten shirts you can mix and match, you have twenty pants and forty shirts, none of which go with each other.
It's even worse with baby socks. Then you have twenty different pairs that you have to keep straight. That means the washing machine isn't allowed to eat any and you can't accidentally leave one on your friend's lawn (as I did the other day) or on the floor of a restaurant (this also happened). Or that they aren't allowed to fall off (ha! my side!) We went from ninety pairs (mostly hand-me-down) to twenty when I gave some of them back to the people who let us borrow them (I thought ninety pairs was too many! How naive!). Now we're down to five single non-matching socks. So I bought ten pairs of identical white socks at Target. I wish they had generic pants and shirts to go with them.
Actually, that's not entirely true. I do think the clothes are lovely, and now that Lucy's getting slightly easier to dress (she can sit up while I pull stuff over her head!) I am more into clothes in general. Plus I am not sleep-deprived. When you are sleep-deprived, the baby clothes madness seems like a cruel joke.
So now that the larger clothes are organized into sizes and packed away for later, and the currently-fitting ones are tucked into baskets on Lucy's changing table, I am much less churlish and surly*. I even put her into cute clothes for church! Little jeans, a hoodie, and a flowered shirt! She looked adorable! Until the pants got wet in the sink in the changing room and then she was just in a diaper and shirt and hoodie after the service, when everyone actually saw her.
Sigh.
*Confession: I mostly just wrote this post for the chance to use "churlish" and "surly" several times. Don't those words just roll off the tongue?
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