Merry Christmas!

We're on the road for the next two weeks, so internet time will be limited.

Merry merry Christmas.




Be wonder-filled.

Year in Review, Part 4: Attachment

Over the summer, someone asked me, "How attached are you to Lea?" Admitting it sounded like a weird question, she went on to explain that a friend of hers (I think) was planning to opt out of attending a wedding because she didn't want to have to be away from her baby.

I remember thinking at the time that All the Mothers of the Internet would have a feeding frenzy over that question, as they tend to do, leading to pages upon pages of debate over (1) what constitutes a sufficiently attached parent, or (2) whether it makes any sense to be trying to quantify parent-child attachment, or even (3) if putting such an emphasis on attachment might be counterproductive in the long run. Feathers would be ruffled! Drama would ensue! Lines would be drawn in the sand!

[I have to insert some self-mockery into this, by the way, because every once in a while I'm slightly unsettled the fact that 90% of the new mothers I "know" and rely upon for support are virtually strangers who I only know online. But, I suck it up because I live in a tiny town and that's the way it goes.]

Anyway, to answer the original question, I consider myself highly attached to Lea. I generally love being around her, and I tend to assume that she goes where I go. Sometimes I absolutely need and want an extended break, and sometimes I go places where it's not practical or possible to take an infant, and that's a good thing. But for the most part, caring for her in the way I have come to prefer as a matter of routine usually means a pretty close proximity.

Take the wedding scenario: if you're breastfeeding, it's not as simple as getting childcare, or even as simple as pumping and storing milk for the baby ahead of time. Because long term, if you want to keep a good milk supply, you've got to be emptying the breast with relative frequency. (This is also necessary to prevent some serious, serious discomfort and hugeness, two things that tend to be even more pronounced in formal wear.) If the baby's not with you, you have to pump again. So, going to a wedding and reception, even across town, means you have to be willing to find a place to hang out topless for half an hour with your pump. So my answer is yes, I'll go to a wedding without Lea, but I'm going to be a little bit more snobby and selective about it. The one non-family wedding I've been invited to since Lea's birth was the absolutely pump-worthy nuptials of my friends Julie and Ben. So I did all of the above, and it was a fabulous evening. But even with all of that work, I was treated to this priceless comment from a more-than-a-little-drunk friend, late in the evening: "You have more cleavage than you came with!" Just sayin'.

All of this is to say that tending to not be far from your baby, a hallmark of "attachment parenting" (and yes, this is a thing, for those unversed in such lingo), sometimes has as much or more to do with logistics as it does with ideology. I don't mean to brush off the virtues of being emotionally attached-- because I strive for that too-- but I think it's worth noting that I have come across people who would seriously admonish me for not taking Lea to the wedding with me (or skipping it), because it necessitated me being away from her for something like 13 hours. For some people, the ideology is all-encompassing; it's almost like, instead of making individual parenting decisions and allowing their parenting style to be shaped by those decisions, some parents commit themselves to a style first, and consult the "rules" of that style every time a new decision must be made.

It's weird. But I'll admit: it's crazy enticing. Parenting is freaking terrifying, and it feels safer sometimes to glom yourself on to a popular way of doing things and check your every instinct with other people who've chosen that way. You'll either be validated (feels great!) or you'll be corrected (sucks, but happens less and less frequently as you spend more and more time absorbing yourself in the "right answers"-- you'll start to see your instincts looking eerily like all those other people's). So eventually, if you conform to a certain ideology and look only to like-minded people for support, all you're going to get is validation. What could be better?

Charting your own path is hugely uncertain, but it's better. It has to be. This is why I will never call myself an "attachment parenting" mom, as much as I try to foster attachment with my daughter. I do probably 75% of the things that people look for to establish AP cred, as it were, so I can probably continue to pass, but I'm getting increasingly disillusioned with the way the term is sometimes used to denigrate people who do things differently.

Let me tip my hat here to Al Franken, who pretty much sums up why I'm a liberal in "Loving America, the Al Franken Way", a chapter of a recent book of his that brilliantly illustrates why measuring someone's patriotism by how much they "love America" makes no sense: it's just more complicated than that, and anyone who says otherwise is rewriting history. "Salem witch trials," he begins, "bad. Revolutionary war, good...

Slavery- bad
Ending slavery- good, but hard
Civil War reenactments- weird
Massacring Native Americans and breaking our treaties with them- bad
Indian Casinos- ?
Child labor during Industrial Revolution- bad
Child labor mowing lawns and baby-sitting- character-building


<snip. Oh, and read the rest of the funny and moving list in Lies and the Lying Liars who Tell Them>

Making mistakes- bad, but inevitable
Correcting mistakes- good, but not inevitable
Calling those who point out mistakes "unpatriotic"- itself unpatriotic
Owning up to our mistakes- brave
America- home of the brave

(Thanks, Al.)

I have seen almost every parenting decision, the totally mundane and the hugely significant, broken down into the "attached" way and the "detached" way, and sometimes, I buy it. But sometimes, it only serves to draw a boundary, and why do that unless you're interested in separating yourself?

Seeking attachment with your child, the PCJ way:

Breastfeeding- the gold standard nutrition-wise, and in many cases, emotionally beneficial for mom and baby. Should be encouraged and supported by law, healthcare providers, and workplace policy. Preferable for optimal health, but not essential for good health. Not always easy or possible.

Breastfeeding past infancy- sometimes still the best way to soothe and/or nourish your child. Sometimes not at all necessary. Not weird or wrong.

T-shirts for baby boys that say "boob man"- a little creepy, but whatever.

Formula- usually manufactured by companies that have done unscrupulous things to make a buck. Still, a net positive when there is no breastmilk to be had.

Co-sleeping- cozy and convenient, if you and your kid can sleep that way. Very safe (just as safe as a crib) as long as you aren't impaired by drugs, alcohol, or medication. Impossible if your baby needs her own space. Or if you do, for that matter.

Cribs- Safe beds for babies. Not cages, people.

Baby-wearing- fun and eye-catching (and sometimes eyebrow-raising, which is half the fun). Allows for most excursions to be baby-friendly. Good exercise. Easy and comfortable, if your kid tolerates it. An upright wrestling match if she doesn't. Sometimes hot and gross in the summertime. Sometimes expensive.

Baby bucket- a carseat, best used in the car (and to and from said car). Probably not very hip-growth-friendly to be in for long chunks of the day.

Responding immediately to every cry- probably best for young babies. Increasing wiggle room as baby ages.

Cloth-diapering- earth friendly and usually frugal, but not an attachment issue.

Vaccines- hooo boy. Strongly urged by the vast majority of people who've collected and analyzed the data for themselves. Otherwise, sometimes scary as crap, counterintuitive, and hugely complicated, emotionally and otherwise. Often manufactured by companies who have done unscrupulous things to make a buck. Still, not an attachment issue.

Being a full-time parent- an awesome thing to do if it doesn't threaten your financial security or mental health.

Parenting, period- complicated.

Being flexible- essential.

Relying on the guidance of loved ones- it takes a village, right?

Relying too much on the rulebooks of strangers- nerve-wracking and self-doubt-inducing.

Watching a child grow- humbling.

Humility- a gift.

Attachment- almost inevitable. Regardless of all of the above.

snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes

It didn't accumulate on the ground too much, but it's very pretty to look at.

Today

Lea took about 10 steps at the library. So far, she'd taken one or two here and there, but tends to drop to crawling whenever she has a destination in mind. Well, it seems the determining factor is whether her hands are available. At the library, she had a book in one hand and a puppet in the other, and had her eye on the sliding-bead-table thing across the room. She took a couple steps, paused, and glanced at the chair right beside her, which she ordinarily would have grabbed onto for the next bunch of steps. But then realized her hands were occupied, so she bent her knees slightly like she was thinking about crawling. Again, hands required... so she just kept waddling until she got to her destination. We were so dumbstruck, we didn't even follow her. Then she slipped and banged her chin on the table and screamed like a banshee. Bad parents. Yay baby!

It's already been obvious that she's not one of those babies who takes one step and never looks back. This kid loves to crawl, and has been crawling all afternoon, even after her library adventure. Hey, no hurry.

At 12:37

... we met Lea.







Holy smokes, what a year! I am very lucky to have such a great kid.

A simpler, more cat-friendly time

Poor kitties. They had so much more lap time, even when I had no lap at all.

One of my favorite things about the end of pregnancy was that Rita really seemed to know what was going on. Her brother was oblivious, but she seemed to have some kind of woman's intuition going on, and took great interest in, and care around, my belly. Sweet girl.

Year in Review, Part 3: Stuff

This is just for fun, as I reminisce about all the last-minute planning I was doing a year ago, trying to figure out what we needed to have on hand.

Looking back, I'm actually very glad that the home we brought Lea to on her first day of life was a one-bedroom apartment, so we had no nursery to fill with things that might have seemed necessary at the time. It was sort of sad to not be able to decorate, but I'm guessing that it saved us a lot of money because we had to be really intentional with the space we had, which meant, among other things, no cushy "glider" or any other furniture. (Although, one of those gliders would be lovely, of course.)

I've been meaning for a while to reflect on the stuff of Lea's babyhood, what we've needed, what we haven't, what has been surprisingly useful or useless, and what I would recommend without reservation to anyone with a new baby. So here goes.

First of all, what are the bare necessities?

-You've got to feed the baby, so breasts or bottles/formula. I was lucky to have phenomenal breastfeeding support, so nursing started to go well pretty early. All I needed was a nursing pillow (the big brands are Boppy and the cringe-worthy "My Brest Friend" pillows. I liked the Boppy because it seemed more versatile and was prettier). If you're nursing, I also recommend buying a bunch of bottles of Gatorade and leaving them on every surface near every chair you might find yourself feeding the baby. In those earliest days, I would always get horribly thirsty as soon as we started. Then I'd be stuck with nothing to drink. The Gatorade was so satisfying to my exhausted post-partum self.

-Diapers and wipes. Don't get a ton of diapers in one size; buy one small pack of preemie size and one small pack of newborn size. When you get the baby home, open the N pack. If they're too big, then open the P pack. If not, leave the P's unopened and have somebody return them for you, and bring you some ice cream with the refunded money. Pampers Swaddlers are pricey but practically failsafe. I think it's worth it for those first weeks when everything is so new. You want to have diapers you don't have to worry about. (And, psst, even though we're cloth diapering in the daytime now, Lea still wears disposables at night, and her tiny butt still fits in the largest size Swaddlers. So we splurge on those since we only use one a day at this point.)

-Clothes. You're probably going to be doing a lot of laundry no matter what. I can't remember why, but we did laundry almost every day (towels and sheets, I guess?). So we did fine with just 4 or 5 good footed sleepers. Then after about a week, as it became clear what kinds of garments worked well, and what size we should buy, we went out and got some more clothes.

-A place for the baby to sleep. Lots of new parents I know keep their newborns right in the bed with them, but we discovered early on that Lea highly preferred having her own space for sleeping. Still, it was easiest if she was right next to me for nighttime feedings, so we set up a Pack-n-Play right beside the bed. This was pretty perfect. We kept her there for four months.

-A carseat. Pretty much the only thing I wouldn't buy used. We found the "baby bucket" style (which clicks in and out of the base, installed in your car, pretty easily) to be a good bet for a winter baby. We could get her all bundled into it indoors and transport her to the car, click her in, and not have to fuss with a lot of cumbersome outerwear. The downside to this is that it gets outgrown, usually well before you can turn the baby forward-facing, so you'll have to replace it with another, larger infant seat.

Not necessary, but I highly recommend:

-A sling. For newborns, I recommend the affordable and cozy Moby Wrap. It might look complicated, but it's really not so bad. This will allow you to get the baby all snug against your chest, where he/she will probably fall asleep, giving you the opportunity to do dishes, laundry, go get the mail, or just get up and move around on your feet for a while. Plus, it's great to take out in public when you're ready to do that. I've also heard really good reviews of some pouch-style slings (which just go over one shoulder instead of both), such as the Kangaroo Korner Adjustable Fleece Pouch. This never worked for us because Lea liked to be upright, so the Moby was the way to go. (Plus, there's a way to cradle the baby in a wrap much like a pouch would do anyway. Basically, a wrap has a learning curve but is ridiculously versatile). The only downside to a Moby is that it's very stretchy, so once your baby hits a certain weight, it doesn't work as well. If you want to keep wrapping, you'll want to look for a woven, non-stretchy wrap. Which brings me to the other downside of the Moby, which is that it's kind of a gateway drug to the world of gorgeous, cozy, designer baby-carriers. Which I covet. Embarrassingly so. I've never been a clothes person, but man, I drool over, for example, the German-style Didymos Simon wrap. (For the record, I have been pretty successful at reigning in my lust for these things, and have only purchased one woven wrap, used.) The reason this method is so comfortable is because the baby's weight is not hanging off you; it's bound to your chest, and distributed evenly across the shoulders. It actually feels not much different than pregnancy. In fact, that's kind of the rationale for baby-wearing; "nine in, nine out" is the rallying cry of the baby-wearing "movement," if there is such a thing-- the idea being that gestation sort of extends throughout infancy, and babies benefit from being held close to their parents for much of that first year and beyond. It's also great in the winter. I never worry that Lea is cold if I have her wrapped onto me.

-A breast pump. Pumping is a total chore, but it's good to try to build up a stash of frozen milk. I wouldn't recommend trying to start until breastfeeding is well established, though, because it can be frustrating and demoralizing. ("A half an ounce? In twenty-five minutes?") It's important to remember that the baby is more efficient at getting the milk out. Anyway, I found the Avent Isis hand pump to be pretty user-friendly and simple.

-Some kind of baby "container," even if you're co-sleeping. I just think it's important to be able to have an absolutely safe place to leave the baby for a minute or two if you need to. For a newborn, a garage-sale bouncy seat can serve this purpose without taking a lot of space. For an older baby, you might do well with an Exersaucer (also easy to find at garage sales).

-Cloth diapers. Seriously, this is a million times easier than it sounds. We got started when Lea was about four months old, with the assistance of jilliansdrawers.com, who offer a "Try Cloth for $10" program. You pay a deposit and they send you a variety of highly-rated modern cloth diapers-- no pins or plastic pants!-- and you try it all out for two weeks and send back what you don't want. They'll refund your deposit minus $10 and the cost of anything you keep. Through this system, we discovered Fuzzi Bunz, which are just as easy to use as disposable diapers. Fuzzi Bunz are a "pocket diaper," which means they have a waterproof outer layer, a fleece-y inner layer, and a slot in the back where you can stuff an absorbent insert in between the layers. Easy peasy. Landfill friendly. We just wash and dry them at home every third day. This has already saved us a good chunk of money. (It's an investment at first, to be sure, but we broke even months ago.)

Things we never, or almost never, used:

-Specialized burp cloths and changing pad covers. We just used old towels for both of these purposes.

-The swing. Luckily, this was a hand-me-down. Lea never liked being in it, so it just never got used.

-Most of the cute blankets we got as gifts. If you decide to swaddle your baby, and your baby is on the bigger side, the flannel receiving blankets you typically get will not be big enough, so you'll need to find a larger blanket (or two) anyway. Other than that, blankets didn't serve much of a purpose for us. Lea is just now sleeping with a blanket over her for most of the night, and most experts advise against putting them in cribs at all.

-In the very beginning, socks. Socks just didn't stand a chance. So anything with built-in feet was much preferred.

-Microwave steam sterilizer for bottle and pump parts. We just washed this stuff by hand or in the dishwasher.

-Baby bathtub. We used it a few times very early on, but it quickly became easiest to just take Lea into the big tub with one of us.

Things we never had, and didn't miss:

-A jogging stroller. We actually just got one on loan while a friend's family lives abroad for six months, and it's nice, but not even close to necessary for a non-jogger (don't laugh; I know plenty of people who have gotten them just because it seems like something you're supposed to have).

-A Diaper Genie or anything similar. We just use regular trashcans and empty them frequently.

-A mirror to put behind the carseat.

-A second carseat base, for which Babies 'R Us implored us to reconsider. This is a total racket; the carseat can go in any car, base or not. It takes thirty extra seconds to get it belted in, but 49.99 for an extra base is just foolishness.


Things that are useful but I mostly just love them because they're fun:

-Babylegs.

Legwarmers for babies. Painfully cute. A great extra warm layer on the legs without an extra step for diaper changes. Also, useful anytime of year with a crawling baby (especially if you have cheap carpet, which can tear up those sweet little knees). This might be one of my favorite things about motherhood. Legwarmers! For babies! Sigh.

-Baby clothes by H&M. Really well made, durable, and simple designs (solid color onesies, pants, and the best heavy cotton tights I can find.) The other cool thing is that they tend to be cut with more room for cloth diapers. Some other brands are true to size on Lea except for her big cloth-covered booty.

-Books by Sandra Boynton. We're still in board book terrain-- Lea will destroy anything made of paper-- and Boynton's cute rhymes and illustrations are the winners so far.


I'm sure I'm forgetting things, but that's just what comes to mind right now. All in all, I feel like we've done a decent job at thinking critically about what is actually necessary, with the very occasional splurge. Oh, and one last, probably obvious thing:

-A camera! Make sure it's easy to use, transport, and charge. Use frequently. If you're like me and never got into the picture- taking routine before, force yourself to get into it! It might seem like a hassle at times, but it's a good habit to establish. Now I just need to force myself into the craftiness habit and do something creative with all these pictures...

Tis the season?

Tonight was the Abingdon town Christmas parade. Awesome marching bands. Candy. And about a hundred church-sponsored floats, including one that read...

Such-and-such Freewill Baptist Church
Pastor Junior Gobble.

Junior Gobble.

That is all.

"Other Mother" is a verb

It's true: I get a lot of my mothering support and advice from a great little online forum for women, including a lot of new mothers.

Some women there have coined the term "other mother," used as a verb, as in: "Ugh, I totally got other-mothered by an old lady at the bank who said Petunia was too fat and I should really watch her weight," or "Holy other-mothering! My sister-in-law told me not to dress Bobby as a cat for Halloween because it's too girly and will turn him gay."

Well, I've been lucky enough to pretty much just be a spectator in that conversation, until today.
Today was my first really bad experience with an Other Mother. It was a grayish, gloomy day, but unseasonably mild, so I decided that we'd take a nice long walk before it gets really cold tomorrow. We hiked all the way to the post office across town. I had Lea in several layers of clothes, and held snugly against my chest in a wrap-style sling. By time we were almost back home again, I was sweating.

So as I turned onto Walden Road, this car passed me, then slammed on the brakes and reversed. I figured the woman was going to ask for directions. Instead, when she rolled down the window, she asked, "Um, are you ok?"

Me: "Yeah, I'm fine!"

Her, furrowing brow: "You don't need a ride or anything?"

Me, smiling: "Nope, I'm just--"

Her, dismayed: "You're just--" (pause) "--taking a walk?"

Me: "Yep!"

He: "Well, it's just that I saw the baby, and I thought--"

Me: "Oh, we're ok, thank you!"

Her: "It's just--" (pause) "--it's cold out."

Me: "Oh! Um..."

Her: "Yeah, it's very cold for a baby to be..." (at this point, she was shaking her head and speaking to me as though I was twelve.)

Me (perplexed): "It's sixty degrees!"

She sighed, literally threw up her hands, and drove away. When I got home, I checked. It was sixty-four degrees. Am I crazy? Isn't that a perfectly baby-friendly temperature? The woman had a "Baby on Board" decal in her window, and she can't have been more than five years older than me, so what the hell? How is this a reasonable thing to say to a stranger?

Year in Review, Part 2: Care

A year ago today, I was dining on a steady rotation of strawberry jell-o, chicken broth, and chunks of watermelon.

This is because a year ago yesterday, I had a nasty stomach bug that had rendered me unable to handle any food or drink for a whole night and day. Aside from the misery of a 24-hour stomach bug, I was having contractions. It's not surprising; it's why there's folk wisdom out there that says you could theoretically induce labor by downing a castor oil and orange juice smoothie. If your digestive system is rumbling, your uterus might decide to play along. Mine did.

So after a night of no sleep (me) and election-season-induced sleeping-like-the-dead (Brian, who didn't even realize I was up and sick), we called the Birth Center at about 5 am. I hesitated to do this, because I was fairly certain it wasn't real labor, and I didn't want to be one of those crazies who calls at the drop of a hat as soon as she hits full-term. Still, I knew there was a risk that I'd get dehydrated, and that's no good for mama or baby. I looked at their handy "when to call" checklist, which listed "illness," so I took them at their word . Peggy, the midwife on call, said to come in. I think we packed a bag, but I knew I wasn't going to have a baby that day.

I didn't, of course. What did happen was this: they monitored my contractions, which were faint and very far-between. They reassured me constantly that I did the right thing by coming in. And they got me all set up in the living room adjacent to the birthing suites, snuggled under a blanket on the couch with an I.V. and a cup of ice chips. I drifted in and out of sleep while Brian tried to find something worth watching on daytime network T.V. Every once in a while, they tested my urine to make sure I was getting sufficiently rehydrated. Eventually, I was. And once I was able to keep a glass of water down, they sent me home.

This is what I loved about the Birth Center. I loved my care during birth, to be sure. But what I find myself continuing to marvel about is the the way I felt completely at ease through my entire pregnancy, even the parts where I was barfing my brains out. They could have sent me elsewhere once they realized there was almost no chance that labor was imminent. They didn't have to devote a student midwife to the job of nursing me through an ordinary stomach bug. And perhaps I got lucky, and they wouldn't have been able to do those things at all if there was more than one laboring woman in the building at the time. Regardless: what a revelation, to not even have to set foot in a waiting room-- to have the receptionist call me by my first name when I trudged in the front door, puke bag in hand-- to immediately be ushered to a comfortable room where one person would look after me (and my husband) the entire day.

The routine appointments, too, were top notch. We never had to wait more than a few minutes for the midwife to be ready for us. Once she did, we always had an entire half hour to ask questions, go over any medical or technical matters like the prenatal screening options available to us, get information on newborn care and breastfeeding, and listen to that quick little heartbeat for as long as we wanted. On top of all that-- and this is so important-- I was actively encouraged to be a full participant in my own care. They taught me how to test my own urine for sugar and protein levels, and read my own chart, and understand every detail of the physiological process of birth. Nothing was done without a thorough explanation of why it was being done. There was nothing assembly-line about it.

Only once did I have a negative interaction. One midwife gave me a really hard time about gaining a lot of weight one month. It ruffled my feathers to the extent that I intentionally avoided scheduling subsequent appointments with her for quite a long time. But when it came down to it, she redeemed herself and then some; it turned out she was the one who saw us for all of the appointments and testing that occurred after the due date, as I went further and further overdue and we had to talk about the possibility of a Pitocin induction at the hospital. She was frank about the reality of it, but reassuring and very kind. She also connected us to a pregnancy-friendly acupuncturist.

Lucky for control-freak me, the induction was avoided, and you know the rest. Just hours after my bring-on-the-contractions needlework, my water broke and 13 hours later, Lea was born. We had the Birth Center delivery we'd been hoping for, and I couldn't have been happier with the experience. I know I'm tremendously lucky, I do. I thank God for the day of Lea's birth for a million reasons, and the fact that things went pretty much just as planned is a huge one. I know that I could have easily required a medical induction or even a c-section, and that ending up at the hospital could have been the reality for me as it is for about 20% of Birth Center clients. But the other great thing about that system is that Birth Center midwives have hospital privileges at Bryn Mawr, so they can stay by your side and even continue to be your primary caregiver for a lot of things. I do believe that even if I'd ended up with every intervention known to obstetrics, I would have felt very good about the care I received from those women. In fact, one of the things that moved me the most was the attention paid (at a breastfeeding support group meeting) to the complicated feelings of disappointment and even grief expressed by women who were healing from c-sections. It's a feeling I couldn't relate to, but I knew for sure that the group's facilitator was making a difference to those new mothers whose plans had to change.

I know, I know. Enough with the love-fest. But I can't help myself. How can I give too much credit to the team of people who helped transform me from a terrified girl who got pregnant about five years too soon to a confident woman, ready to fully embrace the transition to motherhood? By making me feel capable of handling pregnancy and labor with the strength of mind and body that I already had, my caregivers in turn helped assure me that I was capable too of feeding and soothing a newborn, of nurturing and stimulating an infant, of encouraging and protecting a toddler, and of every task ahead of me as a mother.

This is why midwifery matters to me: it's not just about how the baby gets out, it's really not. It's about how the woman becomes a mother. In giving birth, she is born. Maybe that's a philosophy that's way too out there for some, and I'm ok with that. I don't pretend that this approach is right or even interesting to every mother, and I have no delusions that free-standing birth centers are the way of the future for the majority of even routine pregnancies. But I hope that the number of women for whom it's an option continues to grow, and perhaps it's something I'll even be a part of from the other end one day. It's worth thinking about. Hell, I'm still thinking about it every day, a whole year later. Maybe I am onto something after all.

a very strange phone call

Me: Hello?
Person on phone: I'd like to speak to the mister or the misses of the house?
Me: Ok...
Person on phone: Is this the misses of the house?
Me: Um, yes?
Person on phone: That's great!
Me: ...
Person on phone: This is the misses Jones?
Me: Johns?
Person on phone: I'm calling from Dish Network, how are you doing today?
Me: I'm fine.
Person on phone: That'd be great! Now can I just ask you, Mister Jones, are you a cable?
Me: What?
Person on phone: Can I just ask, are you--
Me: We have cable, and we're not interested in switching, thanks. Please take me off your list.


This was mostly strange because the person calling spoke 100% unaccented English. Impressive, considering how screwy the syntax was. I also couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. Off-putting, and amusing.

Happy Election Day!

I mean, Happy Birthday Eric!

Top Five Things I love about my brother:

(5) He's a great writer.
(4) He didn't mind hanging out with me, doing things like watching A Christmas Story on VHS, when I was having a particularly lonely freshman year at UMD.
(3) He's a genuine friend to my husband. This is one of my favorite things in life.
(2) He knows by heart: most of the stories (and commercials) collected on the Rocky and Bullwinkle marathon our parents taped when we were little; the best episodes of Friends; all the lines of both hookers on Fargo; and even a fair amount of an Agatha Christie BBC movie that I'm pretty sure was only ever checked out of the Chester County Library by me.
(1) He delights in small creatures like cats and my kid.

Hope it's been a good one, and local election coverage is exciting, but not so exciting it keeps you working all night long. Happy Day!

Rounding out October

Still hunting for the perfect fall image, we took the camera to Park's Mill, which actually still grinds cornmeal on the giant stone mill. (They also serve barbecue). The mill is located just south of town, down the most mountain-y side road in the immediate vicinity, so just driving there is a lovely experience. Lea really loved watching the water coming down the mill run and going through the wheel.








When Halloween actually rolled around, we had many events to choose from. There was a children's costume exhibition Saturday evening (evening=bewildered, sleepy baby), a church festival on Sunday, spooky-story-time at the library on Tuesday, and actual trick-or-treating on Wednesday.


Fun times with neighbors Krista and Gregory



And get this: on Halloween, as we walked to Zazzy's, a black cat crossed our path. Yeee-ikes.








Bedtime for Lea the Lion.

Stars Hollow South?

Last weekend we set out to capture the essence Abingdon in fall, which is pretty stunning so far. What's funny is that they have decorated the town a lot like I remember elementary school; cornstalks, bales of hay, pumpkins and gourds. They even covered this little statue on main street with a skeleton costume. Anyway, it's been really nice to be here this past month, especially as the weather has gotten more and more fall-like. We took these pictures on a mild, grey Friday afternoon, and on the way to and from the Farmer's market on a very chilly, clear Saturday morning.







And of course we had a beautiful model for all of it.

Travels

A few weeks ago I made the 8-hour drive to PA with Lea on my own. This was the first time managing a drive that length solo since the night we moved, when Lea was not even 3 months old. So I was pretty nervous but it ended up being really pretty manageable. We made two stops on the way up: one at a rest stop just south of Harrisonburg, where we had a nice picnic lunch and some good crawling-time, and one on the PA turnpike just to use the bathroom. I was so proud of my little girl for being such a good sport in the car that whole time-- not to mention facing backwards. For the ride home, I did an experimental night-time drive, and I think this is the way of the future for us. I left Exton at 6pm (just an hour before Lea's bedtime), but she had skipped her afternoon nap, so she was out by 6:45 with barely a whimper, and essentially slept for the entire drive. I did have to stop to nurse her once, but she went right back to sleep. Score.

Here are some photos from our visit Highland Orchards, the source of great nostalgia for me every perfectly crisp fall morning I can't get there. It was a Saturday in October, so of course a madhouse, but Lea had fun with the animals (and the other kids, too).

I don't know what was up with this llama, but she/he lay down very purposefully, and the goat immediately climbed up on her/his neck. So weird:








No, Lea, I don't think the goat wants to eat that rock.