Phone Call with Nurse at Pediatrician's Office

Me: "So, you're probably going to think I am crazy for asking this, but is it normal for a three-month-old to sleep 12 hours at night and go that long with out wanting to eat?"
Her: "Well, I wouldn't say it's normal, but I would say it's great. And judging by his weight, he can probably go that long."
Me: "So I don't need to be waking him up or anything to feed him?"
Her: "You can if you want to."
Me: "But I don't need to."
Her: "No."
Me: "So I am totally looking a gift horse in the mouth here?"
Her: "Yes, I think so."

SNOT

We are living in a place I like to call BOOGERTOWN. Lucy and Milo are over this nasty cold, but Jason and I are still getting through it.

Also, I have been going to the office. With a snotty baby. Good times. Yesterday was actually fantastic, with lots of cooperative sleeping and smiling. Milo is very good at advertising.

I will tell more later, but did not want to go more than a week of radio silence from Boogertown. Over and out and achoo.

I Think I Can

You know that feeling you used to get on Sunday nights? When the clock on "60 Minutes" would come on and you'd feel the weekend ticking sadly away from you? That strange mixture of dread and excitement?

I have it bad. Tomorrow is my first day back at work. Milo is coming with me, thanks to a great program that lets new babies come to the office until they're mobile (more or less). I did it with Lu and it was hard, but the juggling act seemed far easier than making the hard choice between dropping off a three-month-old at daycare and giving up my career.

The juggling act may be harder this time. I have more responsibility and am accountable to more people (read: more meetings). But we're going to do it. And I am hopeful that Milo's sweet disposition and my own calmer, second-time-around demeanor will help us out.

When I think about going to work tomorrow, I am reminded of when I was a little girl on the way to the doctor. My pediatrician's office was at the top of MLK Boulevard, up the very steep hill off Lamar. Every time Mom and I drove up that big hill, we'd talk about the Little Engine That Could and say "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can," which must have been some effort to make me brave.

Tomorrow, I will drive up that same hill to my office, chugging along pulling a baby behind me. I think I can...

Overheard

This morning before school...
Lucy: "We have to bring the stuff for the gingerbread house TODAY!"
Jason: "We can get it and bring it tomorrow -- we don't have to bring it until Monday."
Lucy: "If we don't bring it today, I am going to be furious. I MEAN IT."
[Brief silence.]
Lucy: "WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP LAUGHING AT ME WHEN I SAY THAT?"
[More silence.]
Lucy: "THAT IS NOT A RESPONSE. I NEED A RESPONSE."
Jason: "It's funny because you just sound so grown up when you say that."

In Appreciation of Milo

I know I will regretting writing this down, but I just want to note, for the record, which I suppose this is since I have never done a baby book for Lucy and certainly won't for Milo, that Milo officially sleeps through the night! Multiple days in a row of 9+ hours of sleep. Oh, and I just put him down for a nap while he was AWAKE and he found his thumb and PUT HIMSELF TO SLEEP.

I know this may all go to hell, but I am just appreciating it for now.

Making a List

As much as I reject the early arrival of the holiday season (and with it, all those smug announcements of "I've finished all my Christmas shopping" — no, I haven't bought your present, or any present), I do love the early availability of SANTA THREATS. I used my first one on Thursday: "Lu, what would Santa Claus think of that?" She made a funny face and said in a coy, babyish voice, "Um, I have no idea?" She has an idea, alright. 'Tis the season to be cooperative.

Mission Statement

Over the past few weeks, I have had a series of conversations about the meaning of life. Not quite literally, but discussions with people I love about meaning and purpose, about the right way to be on this earth. I don't have the answer and I never will, but I was reminded again of my favorite poem, which as a clear a statement of purpose as I am likely to ever find.

Late Fragment
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
--Raymond Carver

I promise to write something funny tomorrow...

Sleeping Like a Baby

I just peeked in on Lucy. Next to Milo, she is a giant, a person, a formed creature! And yet, in her sleep, she is as mushy and vulnerable as her baby brother. Her mouth puckers when I tuck the blanket around her, looking for a thumb that isn't there. When I lay my finger in her soft, open hand, she clenches it and rolls toward me. Fierce girl, surrended. She is not a baby, but she is my baby, at least when she sleeps.