November 30, 2006

I got nothing. Last night of November, last night of Nablopomo. It really wasn’t much of a pain until tonight.

I heart December.


Sleep, the update

November 29, 2006

Night one, kid in the middle of the bed: slept until 5, ate, went back to sleep.

Night 2, same setting, same result.

Night 3, same setting, all hell broke loose.

Listen, people. We’re bordering on a crisis here. The kid was up EVERY. FUCKING. HOUR.

I am wrecked today. NSG is wrecked today. And the kid is McCrabby.  Before I got ahold of myself I even tried to pick a fight with NSG this morning over who was more tired.


I have no idea what happened. He doesn’t seem to be sick, he didn’t have a bad day yesterday. Are we paying for having been away? Is something else going on?

I don’t think I have been this tired since my last all-nighter, which was, um, carry the 6… a LONG time ago. I can hardly see straight.

This morning I composed a blog post in my head that started with something like “Baby for Rent.” Now I’ve had a whole day away from him and don’t feel the need to pawn him off anymore – but I will say that I’m not ready for him to come home, and might not be ready until tomorrow.

Please someone remind me that for every night like this there’s also a sleep-until-5-am night, and good smiles and baby laughs and funny little baby farts. I know it was only 2 nights ago that we had one of those good nights but this one cancelled that one out and right now I don’t believe it will ever happen again.


100 things about me (part 4)

November 28, 2006

Part 1, 2, 3. Because really, only 70 things about me would just not have been enough.

71. I still find it hard to believe that I can do work I believe in AND have a family.

72. I still can’t believe I have a family of my own.

73. I can’t believe how much I love them.

74. I’m particularly amazed at my committment to a being I’ve only known for four months.

75. I used to worry that I would think my baby was ugly.

76. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

77. I’m scared to parent others because I can’t imagine loving them as much as I love this one.

78. Parenting a black man is a challenge I hope I can rise to.

79. There is so much to protect him from.

81. I hope that as a white mama I can prepare him to deal with racism.

82. I believe that feminists have a responsibility to raise gentle, feminist boys.

83. I don’t worry that my child doesn’t have a dad who is actively parenting him.

84. I do worry about making sure we have enough men in our lives who are good models for him.

85. It pisses me off when people who are raising their children in all-white environments ask me what I’m going to do to make sure my child has male role models.

86. Being an anti-racist seems like one of the most important things I can do for my family.

87. I might still want to get pregnant someday.

88. I don’t care about having a biological connection to my kid but I would like to find out what it’s like to grow one.

89. I don’t want Roo to be the only non-white person in the family.

90. If I could create my personal heaven it would include sea kayaks.

91. I think in a former life I was a sea creature. One that lived in cold water.

92. I fall asleep on my way to the pillow every single night.

93. I’m really proud of myself for breastfeeding Roo.

94. I’ve been a bookworm my whole life.

95. Mostly I read fiction and sociology books.

96. And cookbooks.

97. I drank diet coke every day until I was 26.

98. When my Dad was in the hospital I lost my taste for it and haven’t had one since.

99. I switched to coffee.

100. I couldn’t live without coffee.

Sleep, glorious sleep

November 27, 2006

One of the rewards for flying a combined 2200 miles with a four-month-old and learning to be a (very temporary) single parent was Roo’s reaction to seeing NSG at the airport.

It’s been so much fun to watch him becoming more and more responsive, to hear him start to learn that he has a voice, to watch him master new tricks like rolling (for the first time on Thanksgiving day!).

But I didn’t realize quite how much he had changed until we got to the baggage claim and saw NSG, and he lost. his. tiny. mind.

Kicking his legs. Huge smiles. Squeals galore. Shaking his little fists. I’ve never seen a happier being, except for NSG in that same moment. Oh, I loved it. Everyone at the baggage claim was smiling at them.

And after falling apart, hardcore, before falling asleep the whole time we were gone, he fell asleep without a peep on NSG’s chest that night. In the morning, more kicking, more smiling, more squealing. Really, really cool.

Unfortunately the night in between was rough. I think he wasn’t sure he was really home, and that NSG was really there, so he woke up FOUR times. And this after three nights of the same, sleeping with me in a strange bed without one of his moms.

I started to lose it. The kid is yet to sleep through the night. When I went back to work, he employed that special sneaky infant survival trick and slept through until 4 or 5 every night. It was great. And then (and I guess this is normal) he regressed. Back to 2 feedings a night, or at least one feeding and one very loud announcement of “I need someone to hold me RIGHT NOW!”

I don’t necessarily expect him to sleep through, though my cousins all insist that the Babywise method (which is definitely not for us) got their kids sleeping through the night at 12 weeks, but getting back to one night waking would make a huge difference.

It’s getting harder than it was before, I think because my expectations were higher. Anyway, in desperation last night we moved him out of the co-sleeper and into the middle of our bed. He snuggled right in between us, touching our faces and putting his forehead up against our chests, and slept until FIVE.

Does this mean damned if we do, damned if we don’t?

I need sleep. Desperately. But I also want to snuggle with my wife. I don’t know if I wanted it to work or not. Should a girl have to choose between snuggling with her wife and getting enough sleep?

Oh, I know. This is hardly a real problem, and it’s certainly not a big one or even an unusual one. I’m just blowing off a little steam. But this morning I had to get an extra cup of coffee because I could hardly function at work, and then I spent half the day feeling like I was high because the caffeine buzz was so off the hook.

Stay tuned…

High School Lesbian, and The Cure

November 26, 2006

Bring on the Google hits for that title.

Lisa V. asked: Okay, what was high school like? How did being a lesbian effect it? What was your favorite part of your teenage years?

I hated high school. Who didn’t? I went to a very conservative Christian high school in the Deep South. I was a fish out of water (I’ve mentioned this before) in a lot of ways.

I didn’t actually come out until I was 19. I came out to everyone else in my life about 10 minutes after I figured it out for myself, and I was in college already. I really think that if I hadn’t been so painfully unlike many of the people around me (I mean in the obvious ways, not in the way that most everyone feels at some point during adolescence) I would have figured it out sooner.

Ironically, my classmates mostly seemed to think I was a lesbian because I was a feminist – and this despite having a long-term boyfriend. People used to ask me ridiculous questions like “Hey – are you a thespian?” And then when I got annoyed they would insist they were only asking me if I was part of the drama club.


My favorite part of being a teenager… (isn’t that a little bit of a contradiction in terms?) The most fun I had was with my closest friend whose parents were completely out to lunch. We used to sneak out of her house at night by jumping out the (first-floor) window right next to their bedroom. We weren’t such rebels – a lot of nights involved writing with hair spray on the pavement and lighting it on fire, or going to IHOP at 3 am – but we thought we were pretty cool.

For a while her brother played bass for a band that played exclusively Cure covers. Between the two of us we dated everyone in the band – yes, that’s right, we were Cure cover band groupies. When the lead singer broke up with me, I holed up in my room and played “Pictures of You” over and over, clutching his photograph and crying. I still can’t listen to that song without cringing in embarassment.

As it turns out, he’s gay too – classic.

My favorite, favorite night during high school involved interpretive dance in the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant with “Total Eclipse of The Heart” blasting on the stereo of my friend’s VW Rabbit. (Yes, we were sober. Who needs alcohol when you have Bonnie Tyler?)

How about you? Come on, I shared my ridiculous high school stories. ‘Fess up.


November 25, 2006

No time to write. I have a wife to kiss, a baby to hand off to my co-parent, cats to snuggle, and a pillow to hit.

I’m so glad we’re home.


November 24, 2006

Belated thanksgiving…

I am infinitely grateful that I am not a single parent. Infinitely. Single parents, I kiss your feet. You are even more amazing than I previously thought. And that’s saying a lot.

I am also thankful for the “sliver” approach to pumpkin pie. It means that the sliver sisters – me, my mother, my aunt, and my great-aunt – were able to attack two-thirds of a pumpkin pie tonight in itty bitty tiny pieces. No one actually ate a piece but somehow miraculously at the end of 6 minutes there it was, gone!

I feel ill.