bullets-- because I can no longer think in larger chunks of focused prose

• Today is my last day teaching this semester. Usually about this time of year I'm feeling relieved. This time I dn't feel much of anything. Now that D. is here, so much less of my energy goes into thinking about work (or doing work).
• Saturday we're taking D. to my parents' for a few days, and then it's off to Central American Country where we'll spend Christmas and the new year with P.'s family. I'm excited about getting down there, but ashamed at how bad my Spanish is.
• I spent much of the weekend making cookies and putting together a Christmas care package for my brother, who has been deployed in African country since October. I was about to make a third batch when P. asked me if maybe I was overdoing it a bit. It was a lot of cookies-- but I figure he'll be able to share them this way. And really, I just don't know what else to do. I hate that he's over there and not at home with his wife and beautiful little girl.
• After several days of agonizing over whether or not I'd be offending or hurting the feelings of P., who is an atheist, and whose toleration of all things Christmas seems to have lessened some now that D. is in the picture, I finally put up our tree. The tipping point? P. brought home an ornament for me from the ubiquitous Dunkin Donuts. D. was fascinated for quite a while, touching the branches, playing with (and gumming) the ornaments, blinking at the lights.
  
• I guess that fourth point really merits an entire post of its own-- htat is, something on the subject of how to negotiate the holidays when the two people involved come from different traditions. I guess the truth of the matter is I'm still trying to think that through.
• My birth grandmother had open heart surgery on Friday. I tried calling my birthmom's place to find out how she's doing, but I haven't been able to get any information yet. Still worried.
• Very ashamed at how poorly I write. Consider destroying the blog.
  

Zombie

Mannnnnnnnnnnnn, I'm tired.

and my baby's pajamas are suddenly too small.

I haven't finished preparing for the class I need to teach tomorrow, and so will have to finish pulling it together tomorrow morning when the baby's mostly awake. I just can't think straight anymore. I'm not sure it's going to get better, either.

Okosama

Last night, after a particularly hard day, P. and I were sitting in the living room when I had to get up to go to the bathroom. I planned to try to put the sleeping D. in his crib on my way (he'll usually sleep there for a few hours, but always ends up in our bed eventually), but P. stopped me and wanted to take D. with him instead.

When I came back, a noticeably calmer and blissed-out P. said to me, "isn't it amazing how just holding D. like this can make you forget about all the stress?"

It is amazing. As exhausting as this full time motherhood can sometimes be, the most peaceful moments of my day are spent with D. There's nothing like holding a sleeping baby. By being with us (and not lying elsewhere on his own), D. also seems to be more at peace. Usually when I put him down, he squirms quite a lot, twisting his body from side-to-side, flailing his limbs. When we pick him up to sit with him, or bring him into bed with us, he almost immediately calms down, and snuggles in closer. When he wakes, up, he is a sunflower reaching for the light: he turns his little face from side to side, gradually tilting his head further and further back, his eyes still shut tight. When he opens them, he'll look at us seriously for a moment, and then he smiles a smile that lights up the entire room.

In her novel, The Character of Rain, Amelie Northomb describes the Japanese belief that until he or she reaches the age of three, a child is a little god, an "okosama." It's not hard to see where this idea comes from. Moments like these (watching D. asleep on my lap) can feel intensely spiritual. There's surely a piece of the divine right here.

Happy Halloween

He's too small to go trick-or-treating, but we couldn't resist getting him a costume. This past weekend we took D. to a Halloween party at the hospital where he was born. It was a reunion of sorts-- for other preemies and the nurses that cared for them.

Those first ten days that D. was at the hospital were some of the most stressful of my life; but they were also some of the most special. We spent so much time in the special care nursery that P. and I got to know the nurses on every shift. It felt good to see them again under less stressful circumstances.

He's so alive! now, and well! So it's a very happy Halloween around here, indeed.

Sick

Yesterday we took D. in to the pediatrician for his 4 month shots. Ouch. I nearly cried when the nurse jabbed the needle into his little thigh, and then did it again! and again!! That sadly hasn't been the last or worst of it. Last night D. woke up and started screaming. Usually I'm able to calm him down pretty quickly, but this went on for at least 20 minutes. It sounded like no cry I'd ever heard before, and I can only assume the kid was in some kind of pain. He finally fell asleep nursing and did okay through the night... but this morning he had a fever, and when I tried to give him some tylenol in the eyedropper, he emptied the contents of his stomach all over his changing table. Minutes later, he threw up again on our bed. And then he had another screaming fit. And then he threw up yet again (all over me) a few hours later. Poor baby.


I cancelled my class so I could stay home and console him (and not subject him to the ride to campus where he usually hangs out with dad in his office for an hour while I teach). He has been in my arms or on my lap all morning. And every once in a while, D. will open his eyes, look up at me, and smile.

I think we'll survive this.