Friday, October 31, 2014

7qt - hymns, Halloween, new projects


The election is NEXT TUESDAY.  Good golly.  That means, of course, that every day from here to then is packed to the gills with work.  John is taking off to man the polls; I hope he remembers to give me a chance to get down there and vote for him!

Other than him, I think I'm going to vote for Bob Goodlatte for Representative, not because I like him, because I think would say anything for a vote, but because he does seem to listen to his constituents.  He's tracked right lately in response to pressure, and when the Syria thing was going down, I called him up and told him the only way he could ever get my support was to oppose the use of force there.  Well, he waited until it was obvious which way the wind was blowing, but in the end he did go my way, so I'm going to go ahead and vote for him.  It isn't a close race, anyway.

The other one, Ed Gillespie vs. Mark Warner, isn't an important race to me because both of them are about equally awful.  If I fill in that blank at all, I'll probably go for Gillespie, but I'm not very impressed with the guy.


For Halloween, the kids are going as Zak and Wheezie, from Dragon Tales.

I am not sure their getting-along skills are up to the challenge of trying to walk from house to house in one costume, but it's what they wanted and who am I to argue?

Two t-shirts from Goodwill: $4
Cardboard and tinfoil: already lying around the house
Construction paper: maybe a buck?
White crib sheet that doesn't fit any of the mattresses in the house: found it on the floor

The hoods are made from the extra sleeves, and the tail from the excess material cut from the sides of the shirts.

Yeah, I'm extremely proud of this.  It's a challenge to make a costume when you have no money AND no time to spare.


This article is pretty cool: Self-care for the highly sensitive parent.  Definitely my sensitivity is what is making this parenthood gig so difficult for me lately.  It's weird, because sensitivity hasn't been a big issue for me much at all since high school .... when it manifested as a deep-seated horror of crowds, such that I would have panic attacks when I was crowded, and I got crowded a lot because that's how boarding school was.  But after that, I was able to craft my life the way I wanted, and I chose to keep things pretty peaceful, so I didn't even think about being highly sensitive -- it wasn't an issue.

Being a stay-at-home mom is great for a sensitive person, up to a point.  None of those multiple assaults on the senses that leaving the house for a job entail .... no traffic, no dealing with strangers, no having to wear uncomfortable shoes.  But then once you have multiple kids at running-around ages, the sensory assaults multiply and you start to daydream of a nice QUIET office.

Unfortunately most of the ways to cope involve cutting out things I would otherwise enjoy.  Since the sensory input that my kids make is mostly unavoidable, the only thing I can change is optional stuff.  I have to stop talking on the phone, because trying to listen to someone talking while chaos is happening around me is so overwhelming it can make the whole day more difficult.  I can't listen to music, haven't much in years, because much as I love music I can't take more noise.  I have to balance internet use ... on the one hand, it can be a nice distraction, but on the other, it can mean I'm taking in more information than I can really process.  I can't say I've found the balance yet there .... but a good book, when I can find one, seems to be a better distraction than the internet.  (I know it seems weird that I have to distract myself from my kids, but I kind of do.  It makes it possible to tune out some of the stimuli.)

Crafts of any kind are very calming for me, but my fingers are so sensitive after dishwater and eczema and so on that sometimes I can't even stand the touch of the fabric!  (You see why I'm obsessive about yarn being extremely soft?)  Going outside always helps, if the weather lets me.  I have to admit I am feeling a sense of impending doom as it gets colder and I know the nice days are soon going to be gone.

This is all so difficult.  I have always thought of my sensitivity as not a big deal, or even a benefit.  I experience the world very vividly and that can't be a bad thing, can it?  But now it feels almost like a disability, and I find myself wishing for a cure.  You can cure all kinds of mental issues, why not this one?  But I think this is just how my brain works.  And at the moment it's robbing me of most of the things I enjoy.


My current read is Anne McCaffrey's dragon books.  I really enjoy both her world and her writing, but I'd read all of them our library has, so I moved onto continuations of the series written by her son, Todd McCaffrey.  So far I'm disappointed.  The plots are fine, the world is familiar to me, but honestly he's just not a very good writer.  He doesn't describe things very well, and the pacing seems off.  Blah.

My next plan is to try Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series.  I've read a couple and liked them ages ago, and since it's TEN 1,000 page books, it might actually keep me busy for awhile.  Being a speed reader was handy in college, but nowadays it's something of a curse.


I've realized that cutting things out just frustrates me rather than reducing stress.  When I say I'm stressed, people say I should do less housework, but the fact is I've had a lot of time to figure out exactly the minimum amount of housework I can do while still keeping us all sanitary and sane, and I'm doing it.  And anyway, I think cutting things out is not the cure.  I thought it might be good to add something in -- something I could be excited about and enjoy, something I can make progress at from day to day, even only a tiny bit.

So I've started another spinning project, and then when that wasn't enough I dug up the first scratches of a novel I started some time ago to go with the last one.  I can't imagine I'll be able to finish it in a month this time, especially as I am not really sure where I'm going with it.  But those days I have been able to work on it a little, it's felt really good.  I make zero positive progress on anything most days -- both housework and parenting are mostly about maintaining the status quo against constant entropy -- so having a single page that I actually wrote, which remains at the end of the day, is a very encouraging thing.

Hopefully telling you all about it will hold me to it.  Feel free to check back in.


Bedtimes when John is out are a rather intense process.  I can sometimes put all three to sleep at once, though often it's easier to let Marko stay up till Michael's asleep, keeping Miriam on my lap throughout.  Luckily John taught Michael to fall asleep in his own bed while I was still recovering from birth, so Miriam isn't any hindrance to his routine.  However, she can be a little noisy -- either loud nursing, or loud wiggling and cooing and so forth, so I've taken to singing to drown her out and help Michael drop off.

I have one firm rule: I pick the songs.  Let a kid make requests and they'll never go to sleep, plus their taste in music is a little ... well, toddlerish.  I do hymns.  Hymns are my favorite way of praying -- almost the only way I am capable of praying -- and they're good catechesis too.  When I think about it, it's the old "squishy liberal" hymns I grew up with that gave me such a firm idea of the goodness of God, the sort of person he is.  And since the words of many of my favorites are all straight from scripture, I know I can trust them. 

A few favorites for sleep time:
Here I Am, Lord
Prayer of St. Francis
Come to the Water
You Are Mine
Godhead Here in Hiding
The King of Love My Shepherd Is
Be Still My Soul

I also like to sing while doing the dishes.  For those, I do peppier hymns, like:
Morning Has Broken
Lord of All Hopefulness
My Song Is Love Unknown
Wake, Awake, for Night Is Flying
Blest Be the Lord
O God Beyond All Praising
I Sought the Lord
God Is My Great Desire

A few of these, I can't find recordings of with the tunes I know.  Luckily my memory is good with songs.  Set something to music and I'll remember it forever.  Sometimes I think of a song I haven't heard since I was a kid, and then *poof* -- there are all the verses, sitting there waiting for me.  One of the things that made me the most frustrated when I first went to boarding school is that we were required to use the hymnals.  What's the point of having a great memory if you can't skip the hymnal?!  (This is pride, of course, and they made me hold the hymnal anyway.  Though they couldn't make me look at it!)

Sometimes I imagine that if only I'd been born in a different age, this talent would have been appreciated and they'd have made me a bard (hence my email address -- I have delusions of medieval grandeur).  But I suspect this ability is latent in all of us.  There were many who argued against literacy because it would destroy people's ability to remember things without writing them down.  Now the same sort of people say the same thing about Google.  But, you know, you needn't let a new technology keep you from learning the old skills.  You just add to your toolbox.


On the topic of hymns, the music we had in boarding school was the bait on the hook for me.  I arrived at the summer program, and things were sort of weird and I had my doubts.  Then the choir sang a polyphonic piece and I was in heaven.  I had to come to this place, because they sang like that!  And, of course, I'd be in the choir.  So it was quite ironic when I didn't make it in -- I always am in the choir!  But it didn't matter too terribly much, because every single day, at Mass, we sang every single song in three-part harmony.  It was gorgeous.  It's one of the few things I still miss.  When I sing the old songs -- and our songbook had quite a collection -- I can hear the harmonies in my head. 

Regnum Christi sells CDs of all their pop-style music, sung by their choirs, but they don't sell the chapel songs.  That frees me of the moral dilemma of whether I should support them by buying it, just because I'm nostalgic.  I know that that tremendous beauty is partly there to lure people in, and it works a treat too . . . but that doesn't make the beauty itself a lie.  It really is beautiful, and singing together with people you love is one of the great joys of life, if you're lucky enough to be able to do it.

How was your week?

Saturday, October 25, 2014

7qt: links, thoughts, pictures


John has been gone much of the week at a library conference.  And then most of the rest of the days he's been gone in the evenings due to campaign stuff.  Just over a week left now!

I haven't been whining much, though, for three reasons: first, I'm just better about handling everything by myself than I used to be ... I like having help putting the kids to bed, but I don't need it.  Second, I want John to win and so I can't begrudge him the time it takes to send out his mailers and what-have-you.  And third .... Doctor Who.  It's my reward: if I put the kids to bed all by myself, then I get to watch my current favorite show all by myself.  It's a fair trade.  John has offered me his computer to watch it when he is there (mine is just a netbook and too slow for Netflix) but I think it's best if I stick to the current system -- it gives me something to look forward to all day.


I'm through with the David Tennant episodes and on to Matt Smith.  Man, it seems like every subsequent Doctor I like a little less!  But perhaps I just need time to get used to the new one.

Some people don't like the way the Tenth Doctor faces his upcoming regeneration.  He seems to dread it intensely and try to get out of it.  Me, I empathized hugely ... because it was exactly how I felt leading up to Miriam's birth!

There's a bit in one of the Miles Vorkosigan books where Miles is checking over the commandos about to go on a mission, and comes across one who is shaking with fear.  "Your first time?" he asks.  The commando says, "No, it's my second."  And Miles says that of course this is natural ... it's easy to be brave when you don't know what it's going to be like, but when you do know, it's terrifying.  And that's how giving birth has been to me.  Each time has been scarier than the last, because I know exactly what I'm in for.  And even though you know you can't fight it, you still try.

And I imagine that's how the Doctor felt, knowing exactly how much the whole process was going to suck, knowing it was unavoidable, but trying to wiggle his way out of it anyway.

Always leaves me thinking, that show.


Finally, a smile caught on camera!

 She looks particularly chubby in this photo.  She isn't really that fat.  Fat enough to have a rash in her neck folds, though!  Makes me happy that I'm clearly not starving her, anyway ... though I'm doing all I can for that rash, poor girl.

She smiles a lot.  This has been a nice side effect of her getting plenty of sleep -- there is now plenty of awake time for her to smile and interact with us!  In response, the boys are also liking her more -- they spend some time most days trying to get her to smile for them.  They're not terribly good at it, but sometimes they get a little grin.


Things are mostly going well.  Sometimes I feel weepy, crabby, or overwhelmed.  A friend asked me if I think I might be depressed (always ask your postpartum friends this!) but I don't think I am .... I think it's just legitimately hard.

Of course this puts me in a bind: I think my situation is extra hard and that's why I'm not handling it as gracefully as I would like.  But the reality is that plenty of people have three kids spaced two years apart -- or more kids, spaced closer -- and don't find it super hard.  That makes me feel like I must be defective.

But, of course, not everyone has kids as high-needs as mine.  Michael is pretty needy right now and Miriam has the whole non-napping thing going on.  And there's also my own sensitivity.  My mom told me years ago she didn't think I could have a big family because I have such a low tolerance for chaos.  Of course, because I was invested in my own plans, what I heard was "You will never achieve your life dreams because you are inadequate," and I naturally blew it off.  But I suppose she was right, to some extent.  Managing chaos is something I need to do to make my life possible -- through schedules, early bedtimes, encouraging quiet activities, trying to keep the house at least a little bit tidy.

Even so, there are some things about having a lot of small children that are naturally overwhelming to me.  I was never overstimulated with just one kid.  I distinctly remember the first time I was really truly touched-out.  I was trying to write a text message while also nursing Michael, but Michael was struggling to latch on and I was feeling a little frustrated.  Then Marko got behind where I was sitting and started fidgeting with my hair.  I tried to ignore it, tried to keep doing what I was doing, and suddenly I couldn't take it anymore and just screamed.  Not at anyone, I screamed like you had burned me because that's honestly how I felt.  It's hard to describe this, because it sounds like nothing, and why didn't I just stop trying to text and get Marko off my back?  And of course, that's what I try to do now, because I know now that I can't ignore it.  At the time, though, I thought it was no big deal and something I should be able to handle -- and the reality is, I can't.

I still get moments that overwhelm me, though.  Like I put the baby down to make something for the boys to eat, but she keeps squawking louder and louder because she didn't want to be down, and I know I can't take care of her until I finish making the food, but Michael is trying to wedge himself between me and the counter and saying "I want a bite! I want a bite! I want a bite!" and I step to the side to open the fridge and there's Marko sitting in front of the fridge blocking my way and I Just. Can't. Take it.

Only there isn't really another option other than dealing with it, is there?  Of course I tell the kids to stop doing the things that annoy me, but that's still attention taken away from what I'm trying to do and more time I have to listen to the baby crying.

Sometimes I handle it fine.  Other times it's a struggle.  And it's a completely invisible struggle because I'm actually able to keep up on the house relatively well most days, I cook food, I get the kids to bed on time, I write this blog.  But what I really want is some time every single day where no one is touching me, and that doesn't seem to be something I can reasonably expect.  I usually do get a little before bed, but it's never quite enough .... and I stay up way too late just to get more of it, but that of course just makes me tired which reduces my tolerance of everything the next day.

John was saying I should find a mother's helper or someone who can give me a break once a week.  And that would be lovely ... except there's a big part of me that feels that I am a failure if I do that.  Because the whole point of my being home is that we don't have to have a babysitter, right?  And because my kids don't want a babysitter, they want me, always.  And because I don't even know what I would do with an afternoon to myself.  I would feel like I should spend it on housework, but I am keeping up with that relatively okay and can do it anytime, or almost.  What activity do you do when you want to recharge your soul?


One activity I have come up with that I find really peaceful is thinking about houses.  I do it if I can't sleep at night ... just lie there, close my eyes, and think of a house I haven't been to in a long time.  Say, my great-grandfather's house.  I started in the basement and remembered, in detail, every single thing in that room.  The ping-pong table, the antlers on the wall, the dessicated puffer fish, the fox pelt, the bird wings.  What the room smelled like, how it was always cool, how my cousin bashed his head on one of the antlers and we stuck ping pong balls on all the sharp ones so no one would get hurt next time.  Then the furnace room where G-gpa had all the wood blocks and the pencil marks for all of our heights.  Up the stairs, past the recliner I slept in when I was four, past great-grandma's bowling trophies, into the kitchen which was the real heart of that house.  In my memory we are having a huge salad with bits of salmon in it, and then G-gpa pulls a carton of vanilla ice cream out of the deep freeze, cuts a slice from it with a machete, peels off the cardboard, and pours raspberries over it all.

The rest of the house has a very heavy feel -- I guess it was just hot and stuffy, but in my memory it feels old and unused.  I remember where the bathroom is, but I have to guess where the bedrooms are, and I don't know what they look like inside.  I remember the front door, but I don't think I ever went through it; we always used the kitchen door.  The living room had an ostrich egg on the mantelpiece, a tray with butterfly wings under glass, a bowl full of polished stones and little wooden acorns that you could spin like a top.

I last went there in 2002 for G-gpa's wake.  I'm proud that I can remember it so well.  And it just gives me a feeling of peace to walk through those old places in my mind -- I feel that as long as I remember them this clearly, they will always be mine, even though I can never go there again.


The two most interesting articles I read this week: I can tolerate anything except the outgroup and Five case studies on politicization.  They're long, but definitely worth reading.  Basically they are about tribalism -- our tendency to adopt the opinions and preferences of those we consider our tribe.  Which explains why conservatives are more worried about ebola than liberals, while liberals worry about global warming, even though how worried you should be about either is a question of science, not politics.

It's kind of humbling to realize how much of this stuff applies to me.  I think of myself as not a member of any tribe -- all of us prefer to think that way, I think -- but I define myself too much in opposition to the various tribes, rather than positively.  Want me to take the anti-police side in Ferguson?  Just share a link to a conservative fundraiser that is actually raising money for the shooter!  I'll be so horrified I run to the other side.  (Of course that's a bad example, because I've been following police overreach for about a year now and so I had an opinion on it before anyone I knew started sharing articles about it -- but the principle itself is something I'm guilty of.)

We all like to think of the ways we don't fit into the various tribes, invent subtribes for ourselves, criticize tribes we are connected to, but I think we all are guilty of tribalism to some extent.  We trust some people's opinion and not others; some catchphrases register as catchphrases and others seem like pithy statements of the obvious.  I always end up in the same Facebook debates, and I always know who's going to fall on which side, and what they're going to say.  The Synod, for instance -- it's utterly predictable who was going to howl in anguish over the relatio and who was going to like it.  And can I just say I'm completely unsurprised that now the final document is out, and didn't say any of the controversial things people didn't like, no one is talking about it at all?  The more "progressive" crowd is disappointed, and since they were being triumphalist last week, it's embarrassing now.  And the "orthodox" bunch was taking the relatio as proof that the Church is headed in the wrong direction, and they don't really like being proven wrong.  The one comment I've heard from anyone on that side since the final document came out was about how our terrible Pope tried to pervert Church doctrine, but the brave bishops stood up to him and wouldn't allow it .... which is just about as inaccurate as anything I can imagine.

Apropos of this topic, but much shorter, is this Cracked article.  I love Cracked.


If you've got time to spare, read this: Meditations on Moloch by the same author as the tribalism articles.  It's long, and by long I mean even by my standards -- it is probably the longest blog post I have ever read.  The whole first half I was nodding my head -- I absolutely agree that human society is not self-optimizing; that self-interest is not sufficient to get people acting in a way that is best for all.

It's the capitalist lie: that virtue is not required, because self-interest coordinates everyone perfectly anyway.  I like capitalism because it is relatively efficient and allows for human choice, but virtue is always, always required.  Without it, the author is right -- civilization goes on a constant downward slide.

However, virtue is, to some extent, natural to human beings.  We have one impulse to look out for number one, and another to sacrifice for the good of others, and neither one is "the real us."  They're both the real us.  By working on it, we can strengthen our virtue and fight against the tendency to be selfish; and conversely, if we convince ourselves that selfishness is okay, we can silence our conscience.  But in our natural state, we do care what happens to others.

Let me put forth an example: Imagine it was conclusively proven to you that God does not exist.  There will be no reward or punishment after death for what you do, because after death you will cease to exist.  And you are offered a choice: you can have a perfectly happy life, health, riches, friendship.  But an hour after you die, the entire population of the Earth will die horribly.  Would you take the offer?

I can pretty much guarantee that you, reading this right now, would not.  Not because you think you'll be punished for making that choice, but because deep in your gut you know it is a bad choice.  You know that your life isn't the only life that matters.  And for my part, I feel confident that that knowledge we all have will keep us from disaster, if we let it.

Because yeah, the dude really lost me around the first time the word "transhumanism" came up.  I don't want to be a cyborg, or an intelligent computer program, or ruled by a benevolent supercomputer.  I'd rather just try to be a virtuous person myself and encourage others to do likewise.  Yes, keeping humanity from destroying itself is an uphill job.  I just don't think it's an impossible job.

How was your week?

Friday, October 17, 2014

7qt: I give up


I have officially given up trying to teach Miriam to nap in her bed.

As this week began, I was really losing my mind.  My schedule was going like this: Baby gets fussy.  Nurse baby to sleep.  Hold for 10 minutes while kids destroy house and/or demand attention I can't give because it wakes her up.  Put down.  Madly try to get stuff done for 10 minutes.  Baby wakes up.  Nurse. Rock.  Baby goes to sleep.  Hold for half an hour while kids destroy house, bite each other in the face, and cry.  Put down.  Baby wakes up instantly.  Rock.  Baby falls back to sleep.  Hold for an hour while house goes into utter chaos and my whispered threats have no effect.  Every time I attempt to say anything to get the kids to not put knives into outlets, hug the Scratchy Cat, etc., Miriam starts to wake up.  Wait for her to go into "deep sleep."  Never happens.  Eventually give up and put her down.  Baby instantly wakes up.  Leave her in her bouncy chair while I attempt to get dressed, eat, drink, fill up the water filter, feed kids, hug kids, etc.  Baby quickly escalates from short squawks to real crying, which she never did before this week.  Shriek incomprehensible things at kids.  Cry.  Go back to trying to put baby to sleep .....

Most days she was getting at least some sleep in her bed.  Either a really good nap, right when I was on the verge of giving up, or at least 45 minutes.  So I told myself it was worth it, because maybe she was getting closer to figuring out the whole sleep-in-bed thing.  But it was really wearing.  I was ending most days in either a zombielike state, or in tears.  It. Was. Awful.  There was just this constant feeling that I wasn't giving ANY of my kids what they needed.  That's just the most heartbreaking feeling.  Michael, in particular, has been getting worse and worse with his bad behavior and generally blowing off whatever I say.  Which is natural, of course, because he knew I was stuck rocking the baby and wasn't likely to DO anything!

Sometimes I would put her in the wrap and go to the park with the kids, and then everyone was happy.  But then this week had a forecast for rain every single day and all the happy disappeared from my life.  Ugh.


So I asked Facebook, and Facebook replied with a multitude of answers, like "have you tried x?"  (Yes, of course I did!  I'm no spring chicken here, I know bad sleep like a brother by now.)  "Have you tried y?"  (I am never trying y, that is just cruel.)  "Have you tried z?"  (I absolutely would try z if I could get TEN FREAKING MINUTES of quiet to do it in!)  And the only thing that didn't get one of those three answers is this: "That may just be the way she is."

Of course I do not like that answer, but it's probably true.  Possibly if I had a solid week of quiet to teach her to nap, I'd have more success, using all the stuff that eventually got Marko to nap.  But I don't, and what I'm doing is not working, so I decided I was just going to have to stop trying.

Basically I've just made up my mind to prioritize the boys' behavior over Miriam's sleep, because Miriam will eventually stop needing naps, but if I let Michael get into his head that he can just ignore me, I don't know how I will fix that.  And if I sit around and let Michael smack Marko around, then Marko gets angry and resentful and when Marko is angry, the whole world is a less happy place.


What that means is just having her nap in the wrap.  Which I hate because, well, she is a LIGHT sleeper.  Being on me doesn't stop her from being a light sleeper.  She wakes up multiple times per nap; the only difference is I can bounce her back to sleep pretty easily.  So I can't just ignore that she's on me, I have to do certain chores (dishes and sweeping) and avoid others (picking up toys, putting laundry in the dryer, holding the other kids).  I am getting her used to sitting down, so I can sit at my desk and type (this blog post, for instance) without waking her.  And when she does wake up, I can take a break, bounce her back to sleep, and get back to it.  Most importantly, I can intervene when the kids are being too dangerous, destructive, and/or combative, which is vitally important.

AND, a couple of times I've been able to sneak her out of the wrap around the two-hour mark, and she stayed down for another 30-45 minutes!  Which means at last, time for me/other kids!

But in general, time for non-wrap-friendly chores has been Miriam's awake time.  You see, when she gets some really good sleep under her belt, she can be happy and awake for two hours or so!  Of course, she's cute and sweet at that time, and does want some attention, but she's able to be down for much of that and so I can hold Michael and do all those other chores that need doing.

The downside is that it's getting harder and harder to put Miriam to sleep any other way than the wrap.  Which means it's been taking me longer and longer to get her to bed.  Last night she went to sleep at last at 10 pm.  Tonight I'm going to try wearing her in the wrap from 7-9 pm or so and see if I can move her into her bed after that.  I am NOT wanting to mess up her good night's sleep -- she is sleeping in six-hour stretches and it is what keeps me from being a blubbering mess some of the time.


Have I told y'all she smiles now?  Very unpredictably, so no pictures yet, but she definitely is smiling.  She loves it when we interact with her.  However she hardly ever actually seems to make eye contact.  She's always staring over our heads or to the side.  I don't remember whether my other kids did that.  Is there something super interesting elsewhere?  Or is there something terribly wrong?  (Yep, three kids and I still worry all the time if things are terribly wrong.)

At any rate it's very cute.  I love this stage, except for the naplessness bit.


The boys are hilarious as ever.  A couple examples:

Me: Did you pee in your pants?
Michael: Um, yeah.
Me: Where?
Michael (as if talking to an idiot): In my PANTS!
Me: I mean, is there a puddle somewhere I should know about?
Michael: Yeah.  In my bed.

Marko, holding the little brush that came with the dustpan: I'm a soldier, and this is my hairbrush.  Do soldiers brush their hair?
Me: I'm sure they do.
Marko: And this can be my bathroom table.
Me: Do bathrooms have tables in them?
Marko: Soldiers' bathrooms do.  They are bigger than regular bathrooms.
(Marko does not know what soldiers do, but he's very interested in them.)

Marko, holding a business card to his ear:  Hello?  Daddy's name is John C----.  He is running for F---- R---- Town Council.*
Me: What are you doing?
Marko: Talking on my smartphone.

Marko: Jesus does not like to wear clothes.
Me: Why do you think that?
Marko: On the cross, he is only wearing a diaper.
Me: Some people took his clothes away.
Marko: But they gave them back.
Me: No, I don't think they ever did.
Marko, very upset:  No, they need to give them back!
Me: I think he got new ones after he rose from the dead.
Marko: Where did he get his new clothes?
Me: .....I really don't know.
(Later) Both boys, running around in the buff: I am Jesus Christ!  I am Jesus Christ!

 [*Yeah, I know y'all know who we are and where we live, but let's just pretend you don't, huh?  I don't want John's opponents/prospective voters googling him and landing HERE.]


How about that Synod?  I think the freakout over it is just ridiculous.  It's a synod, not a Council, and so even the final conclusion is likely to be a lot of fluff, much less the interim report, which is just "here's what we're talking about."

However, I didn't have a problem with anything said in the interim report either.  I mean, isn't it obvious that unmarried, irregular, and gay couples love each other too and therefore there is some good we can recognize in their relationships?  It doesn't mean it's all hunky-dory, it means we're not going to pretend that all non-marriage relationships are horrible dysfunctional miserable things.  So when people say "but you must be wrong, because these people love each other!" we can just answer, "Yeah, we knew that already, but that's not the point."

"How can we fix this stuff?" is a much more difficult ball of wax, and I don't really think they're going to come up with anything other than "let's be as merciful as we can."  If the relationship can be saved, let's make a smooth path toward fixing it -- getting that convalidation, church wedding, annulment ASAP.

If not -- like a second marriage where an annulment can't be granted, or a gay couple, what can you do?  Basically nothing.  We can't change church teaching to allow them (have no fear on that count; the Pope and bishops know it too) and we can't lie and tell them to carry on.  On the other hand, we can hope that, even if they aren't willing to follow Church teaching now, maybe they'll get there someday.  I seem to remember it took the guy in Brideshead Revisited quite awhile to come around.

Anyway, I'm curious to see what they actually come up with, but I can't really see that it'll make much difference.  The bishops (if past experience is any indicator) will go home and keep doing what they were doing before.  The liberal ones will go on saying "Sure, x is our official teaching, but God understands, so go ahead and keep doing y."  And the conservative ones will make statements to the media about the sinfulness of sinners and how much they wish the Pope would phrase things the way they would have.


I had a cool thought while watching Doctor Who the other day.  (On to season 4 and still enjoying it.)  The whole world has been taken over by a Big Bad Guy (this is no spoiler, obvs, because this happens ALL THE TIME!) and the Doctor's companion is traveling over all the world, telling people about him.  Here's what she says:

I travelled across the world. From the ruins of New York, to the fusion mills of China, right across the radiation pits of Europe. And everywhere I went I saw people just like you, living as slaves! But if Martha Jones became a legend then that's wrong, because my name isn't important. There's someone else. The man who sent me out there, the man who told me to walk the Earth. And his name is The Doctor. He has saved your lives so many times and you never even knew he was there. He never stops. He never stays. He never asks to be thanked. But I've seen him, I know him... I love him... And I know what he can do. 

Does that remind you of anybody?

Let's try another quote, this one from C. S. Lewis:

Enemy-occupied territory—that is what this world is. Christianity is the story of how the rightful king has landed, you might say landed in disguise, and is calling us all to take part in a great campaign of sabotage. When you go to church you are really listening--in to the secret wireless from our friends: that is why the enemy is so anxious to prevent us from going.  

Kind of makes church a bit more exciting, eh?  Sometimes, looking at this mixed-up world and how much misery is in it, you can't quite believe that there is a good God behind it.  But I really do believe that God is not all-powerful in this world in the way we think.  He's handed over the power to us, and we lost it through sin, and as a result the world is ungoverned, or worse, governed by the devil.  God has managed to smuggle knowledge about Himself into the world, and He will rescue us out of it in the end, but in between times it really is occupied territory.  So no wonder it so often makes so little sense!

Finishing this hours after I started -- I'm happy to report that Miriam is actually napping in the bed and has been for half an hour now.  So perhaps wrap naps aren't going to ruin real naps forever.  I have hope.

How has your week been?

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Science fiction glitches

I enjoy science fiction and fantasy.  Personally, I don't see a real difference between the two -- science fiction just has a fake "science" explanation for the magic.

Now, some science fiction is more science-y than others.  For instance, Firefly is very, very careful about not throwing around unrealistic things -- there are no explosion noises in space, the ships move with real zero-g physics, and the merchant ships have no laser guns because why would they?  (But I don't really believe that Reavers would ever be a thing.)  Meanwhile Doctor Who just throws around some techno-jargon about a "chameleon circuit" or a "sonic screwdriver" and we're just supposed to believe it.  When the Doctor needs to do something, it suddenly becomes scientifically possible.  John says that makes it fantasy.  I said, "No it's not, he just said the word 'DNA' so it's science fiction!"

Really, that's the only difference in my mind.  Because almost every science fiction story ever (Firefly being a notable exception) includes faster-than-light travel, even though it's well-known to be impossible to go faster than light.  I actually subdivide science fiction in my mind based on how they go faster than light -- is it with some magical warp drive, turn it on and the rules no longer apply to you?  Or is it some kind of wormhole idea -- more theoretically possible?  Lois McMaster Bujold has wormholes in her fiction, which results in a lot of fun possibilities (what would happen to a colony established by Earth if the wormhole that got you there spontaneously collapses?), but I just can't figure out how the people in her universe ever discovered them.  You see, to go through a wormhole, you need a ship equipped with Necklin rods (which have no purpose other than to take you through a wormhole) plus a pilot with a cybernetic implant which allows him to navigate the five-dimensional space in there.  Cool, no problem.  But which came first, discovering the wormholes, or inventing the Necklin rods?  Without the Necklin rods, how would you know the wormhole was there?  But why invent Necklin rods with no wormholes to go through?  And even if you had those two things, what happens when you stumble upon the wormhole, turn on your Necklin rods, and then get lost in five-dimensional space because the pilot doesn't have implants?

And then there's the issue of where the wormholes are -- in orbit in the system, or stationary?  Because it's odd to say "the planet is five days' trip from the wormhole" when the planet, of course, is in motion.  Unless the wormhole is in synchronous orbit along with the Earth, or orbiting around the Earth, the amount of time it takes to get from one to another will be highly variable.  On the way to visit your grandma, it might take a week; on the way back, six months.

Timothy Zahn has a cool solution in his Quadrail series -- there is actually a train that goes faster than light through some kind of trans-dimensional tunnel.  You spend days traveling to the edge of your system to get to the station, but once you hop on the train you could be in the next system over in an hour or two.  But how they make this space-tunnel work is beyond me.

Another glitch is how easy it always is to get from orbit to the planet's surface and back.  People in sci-fi always seem to think nothing of it, but it takes a massive amount of fuel to boost your mass out of a planet's gravity.  For economic reasons, I can't imagine people would drop back down to the surface just to grab a screwdriver, but that's what they always seem to do!  (Arthur C. Clarke's Fountains of Paradise solves this problem with an elevator leading to an orbital space station.  If you could make a strong enough cable, this actually would work.)

A transporter, though, is not much of a solution at all.  Turning matter into energy and back again is a big deal.  The replicators in Star Trek are even worse.  Want a cup of coffee?  No problem -- the machine will turn energy into coffee-shaped matter for you in seconds!  But ... do you know how much energy that would take?  The exchange rate between matter and energy is literally astronomical -- it's the speed of light (a really big number) squared.  (Thanks, Einstein!)  So unless you have an actual sun blazing away in your engine room (and perhaps even if you do) it just is not practical to make all your food and dishes and clothes this way.

Then again, if you then use everyone's dirty clothes and dishes and poops in a fusion reactor, could you compensate for it that way?

Hmmm.  The idea has merit, if you don't mind your Earl Grey Tea, Hot being your own reconstituted urine.  But it still seems in the long run it would be more practical to wash your dishes, launder your uniforms, and use hydroponics to grow food.  Why would you transfer matter to energy and back again, except just to show off?

Many of the other things in science fiction are theoretically possible.  For instance, genetic engineering is in its infancy, so there's no way to be sure that we can't engineer pretty much anything we want.  On the other hand, it's quite possible that in 50 or 100 years, we'll laugh our heads off about "genetically engineered super-soldiers" the way we now do about "radioactive spiders."  That is, once we know more about the science behind it, we'll know that sort of thing isn't really possible.  Hopefully.  It would be pretty freaky if it were.

And then there's the "but why would you do that?" technology.  In the future, everything, everything is 3D.  Is it really convenient to have 3D pictures on your wall?  It seems 2D remains, not because 3D is hard to produce, but because it's just simpler a lot of the time.  Writing is 2D.  There is no advantage to a 3D computer console if you just want to read your space-mail.

Ah, but of course no one will read in the future -- everything will be audio, video, and 3D!  Nah, I don't think so.  We have technology now to turn the written word into audio for you, but no one uses it but blind people.  It's just so much slower and harder to process a lot of information when you have to fastforward instead of just scanning over the page to the part you want.  No way are we going to retire books and have shelves full of vid disks -- even if that weren't a really stupid way to store your digital files.  I refuse to believe in a culture that developed faster-than-light travel but can't store a video more compactly than a disk you can hold in your hand.

Then of course, consider this: how long does it take to write a chapter of a book on, say, physics?  And how long does it take to make an hourlong video giving the same information?  Sure, you could do a video of just a guy talking, but if you want diagrams, different actors, and so forth, the manpower needed is a bit much.  You've have to have people clearly preferring to learn by video over text for it to be economical -- and the reality is, a lot of people just prefer text.  I do.  Either way, I assume text, audio, and video will continue to exist side-by-side for years to come.

So, maybe stop dissing Doctor Who for having a TARDIS that's bigger on the inside and travels through time using mysterious energy.  All science fiction is just fantasy with technobabble added.  We suspend our disbelief to enjoy it -- that's sort of the point.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

A word of warning

Lately I've been inundated in articles and blog posts about how wonderful it is to have a large family. Like this one, for instance: Why Have More Kids?  The thesis is always: just have kids!  Don't worry!  It'll be fine! 

It makes me feel strange.  I always intended to have that giant family and to be writing its-so-wonderful posts someday.  And you know, I still might have lots of kids yet .... but I don't think I would write articles like that.

What these articles come down to is advertising.  They try to make the life of a mother of a large family look great, so that people will choose that life.  But since they are advertising, they're necessarily biased.  They gloss over the tough parts.

And who wants to be the bad person who points that stuff out?  If I were to do so, wouldn't I just be a big complainer who hates my children and my vocation?  (Apparently yes, according to this article.)  But here I am, taking the plunge and talking about the tough parts, because someone's got to do it.  I think a high regard for my vocation implies I will want to warn away people who haven't got what it takes.  You know those military recruiters who will sign up anybody just for the numbers?  I don't want to be that.  I want people to sign up for the long haul that is parenthood with their eyes wide open, knowing (insofar as it is possible to know) that it will push them to their uttermost limits, and then some.  If you're scared away by the truth, maybe it's not for you, you know?

So here are a couple of the arguments I'd like to poke some holes in.

We have lots of kids because we love kids.
Well, I love ice cream, but I also know when to say when.  I read somewhere the line that one can have a high regard for apple trees and still not plant them one foot apart all over your yard.  If you love kids -- really love them for themselves -- you're going to consider what they need from you, and seriously ask the question about how you are going to provide all that.  People who love kids are probably going to have more of them than someone who doesn't care for them, but it's not a complete explanation for why you have fifteen of them.

I have kids because I haven't deliberately chosen to prevent that.
No, you have kids because you're having sex, I assume.  Nothing wrong with having sex if you want kids, but don't pretend it's not a choice like any other choice.  God did not send a child winging down from heaven to join your family without you taking part in this decision.  And yeah, there are some cases when I would say you don't have the right to have sex, even if you're married, because of the negative consequences that will result.  So, use discernment.  Abstinence is always an option, if you don't believe in NFP or think it won't work for you.

God will always provide for your material needs.
If you live in America, the taxpayers will provide for your material needs.  I don't have a problem with that per se, but if you are on unemployment and food stamps and have a kickstarter to fund your family's heating bill and all of your friends and church acquaintances are pitching in to fix your car .... maybe getting pregnant right now isn't the smartest choice.  After all, the money that is providing for you is coming out of the budget of another family -- it's not hand-delivered by angels.  Even if it's money the donors don't need, they could be helping another family with it.  I'm not saying poor people should never have babies.  I'm saying, use discernment and don't assume because you're not starving to death, it means God is approving everything you do.  Anyway, that's a pretty insulting thing to think, if you consider the parents in third-world countries who love and trust God as much as you do, and wind up watching one of their children starve to death.

You always have enough love for another child.
Absolutely true.  You know what doesn't multiply?  Time, patience, lap space.  I really do love Miriam just like I love my other kids.  But the fact that she's here means that somebody's got to get the shaft.  Suddenly the toddler can't sit on your lap, the preschooler can't do any letter games, the homeschooler is being told "here's another workbook to review old stuff, because I can't teach you any new stuff."  Any catastrophe in the family is going to have effects like that, and kids do weather them, but it's different to choose to do this every year or every other year.  You've got to ask yourself if it's really to the kids' benefit to go through this.  When Marko was two, I had a strong sense that he was ready to be a big brother, and I was right -- he flourished with a little less attention.  Michael, though -- his behavior is shockingly bad lately, and it's been very hard to work on it because I am busy with the baby.  So perhaps my sense that he wasn't quite ready to be a big brother was right after all.

Just because you are exhausted is no reason not to have another.
I'd agree that being tired is just a normal symptom of parenthood.  But exhausted?  Exhausted means empty, completely drained.  An exhausted well isn't a well that needs coffee before it can give you water in the morning ... it's a well that has nothing left to give.  And exhaustion does happen to people.  Nuns, social workers, teachers, all have to be on their guard for burnout, take their yearly vacation and daily recreation, perhaps a sabbatical every ten years.  (Mother Teresa, who said "give until it hurts, and when it hurts, give more" gave her sisters an hour of silent prayer a day, plus recreation time outside of that.  She wasn't deceived about what human nature can and can't handle.)  Mothers are imagined to be these miraculous burnout-proof creatures, but we're not.  I've seen burnout.  It's when you wake up in the middle of the night to a baby's cry, and lie there for a moment wishing you would die so you wouldn't have to get up.  It's when your kid asks for a sandwich and you shriek "No!  You kids need to stop NEEDING stuff all the time!"  When you stare dumbly at a child deconstructing your house and can hardly make yourself care, let alone get up and stop him.  When dishes lie in the sink a week gathering mold because there was always, every moment, something urgent that had to be done.  Some women say it might be their thyroid.  I say it's just that you're not supposed to be able to get by on five hours of sleep indefinitely.  Something's got to give.  And yet they think "but being tired is no reason not to have another baby."

Let me sum up: if you are so tired that your husband, kids, and/or home are suffering, it is possible that you are just too tired.  When you are handling what you've got more-or-less okay, you'll probably start wanting another baby all on your own ... you won't need to be guilted into it.

The greatest gift you can give your kids is a sibling!
Sometimes this is true.  Certainly when I was fifteen and depressed and lonely, my little brother Joseph was the best thing anyone could have given me.  But even if a sibling is the greatest gift, it doesn't follow that it should be the only gift they ever get from you.  Kids don't have a lot of needs, but they do have some true needs.  You know better than anyone what your kids' needs are.  Just because someone told you a sibling is top of the list, doesn't mean that's true for your individual child. 

No one ever grows up to say they wished they'd had fewer siblings!
No, because that would be a horrible thing to say and people would hate you for it.  But there's no end of people who grow up to say "I wish I had had more of my parents' attention."  Maybe they were getting bullied by an older sibling and their mother was too busy with the baby to ever notice.  Maybe they went through a stage of depression as a teenager and their parents told them to suck it up because they needed help with the toddlers.  No one wishes those babies away, because if they are your siblings, you love them whether or not they caused you a lot of grief.  But that doesn't mean your parents' choice to have a large family was necessarily the best choice for you. 

No one ever regrets having had so many kids!
That's just a lie.  They do.  Usually they don't say so, but they think it.  It's a horrible thing to think "I wish I didn't have 12 kids," and of course any parent who thinks that then thinks of each one of the 12 and wouldn't wish away any individual child.  They just feel like the number of them is too many.  If only someone could swoop in and borrow a couple for a week or a month, and bring them back with all their behavior issues fixed!

There was a woman awhile back who posted her toddler on Craigslist.  She said she had other kids as well, her husband was deployed, this particular kid seemed very needy and she knew she wasn't being a very good mother to him.  She was hoping someone would adopt him and give him the love he needed.  Instead she got arrested, because you aren't allowed to give up your kids for adoption that way.  But I just felt for her.  Of course she didn't really want to be rid of him forever -- she wanted some help!  But when help is unavailable, the only thing her loving, motherly heart could think of was to find him a new mother that could give him what he needed.  I have felt that way myself, once or twice, and it's an awful awful way to feel.

Having another child makes you less selfish and more holy.
It might.  And yet my own experience is that there is a point beyond which the whole "challenges make you stronger" thing stops working.  Your psyche is so damaged it becomes hyper-protective of itself and refuses to give more.  You start turning to crutches like overeating or alcohol or even self-harm to make it through.  At that point you aren't really capable of generosity or empathy; your soul turns inward because it's hurting and exhausted.  You hear the baby crying and instead of thinking "an opportunity to be Christ for my sweet child!" you think, "I wish that horrible child would shut up."  Defensiveness becomes anger; you become a harsher person, quick to judge and to lash out.

How do I know all this?  This is what Regnum Christi did to me, trying to push me to a level of "selflessness" I was not ready for and didn't take on myself willingly.  And I've seen it happen to mothers as well.  Motherhood is one vocation that has an absolute need for a healthy psyche.  You need to give yourself on an emotional level so many times every day.  You can't do that if you're empty.

I know people mean well when they "advertise" motherhood this way.  They themselves are happy as mothers of large families (I assume), and they want to share that.  But in the end, this batch of mothers winds up being a high-pressure community where saying how tough it is really isn't allowed, because you're making motherhood look bad.  (Again, flashbacks to cult life, where your happy face is presumed to be an advertisement for Jesus and you are a horrible sinner if you aren't smiling.)  The result is a loud proclamation of how wonderful everything is on public blogs .... and tale after tale of misery in private groups.  I see that side of it too.  It's really shaken me, the stories that people will only tell where their friends can't read it.  No one wants to admit that they're not handling things as well as everyone else seems to be.

Let's just get it out here right now, then: Motherhood is a challenging, grueling, emotionally draining, beautiful vocation.  The more kids you have, the more true this is.  And there's a kind of generosity in seeing that you can only be a good mother to the number you have right now, as well as generosity in having more.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Two ways of looking at the world

It seems to me there are two possibilities.

In one worldview, there exist both physical and spiritual realities.  The earth, the planets, subatomic particles, and humans' bodies belong to the physical realm; and God, angels, grace, and humans' consciousness belong to the spiritual realm.  Moreover, these two realms affect one another -- things you do in the physical realm can have spiritual consequences, and spiritual realities are supposed to be able to affect the physical realm as well.

For instance, in baptism, pouring water has the supernatural effect of bestowing grace and making it possible for people to enter heaven.  Confessing sins has the effect of removing a spiritual, invisible thing called sin.  Your physical actions produce conditions called the state of grace and the state of sin, and these determine what happens to you after you die.

But because these things are spiritual, you can't detect them.  I can't feel the difference between being in a state of grace and being in a state of sin.  I should have the spiritual gift of faith, but I don't notice that it makes it any easier for me to believe anything.

God has total control over both the physical and spiritual world, and yet in the physical world, we find that he doesn't normally intervene.  Plenty of things one imagines God would want -- sick people to be healed, natural disasters to be averted, and so forth -- do not happen.  Almost everything that happens in the physical world can be explained through physical causes, and it is possible that some things that can't now be explained that way will be able to be explained later, when we know more about the world.  But in a few cases, we say that God is intervening directly in the physical world -- miracles -- and in this case, a spiritual reality has physical effects one can detect.  We know about spiritual realities because of the physical effects they have.  Although we are "hybrid" creatures, both spiritual and physical, we can only detect physical realities with any certainty, because the only way we have to learn about the world is through our senses.

It's kind of mindboggling going through the world and imagining that we only can detect a small percentage of what is -- that unbeknownst to us, we are surrounded by angels, that God's presence is everywhere, that everyone we speak to is in a spiritual state that we can't possibly know.

But if I blink, I can just as easily see the world differently.

I can see a completely natural world, in which everything that exists is part of the physical universe.  Those things that we don't have a natural explanation for are simply things we don't yet understand, and further study could figure those out too.

Miracles can be explained away.  Perhaps someone was mistaken.  Perhaps a spontaneous cure was a long shot, but theoretically possible and someone just got lucky.  And perhaps a person's strong belief enabled them to heal themselves -- the placebo effect can be quite powerful.  After all, there are some random inexplicable healings that can't be attributed to saints.  There are faith healers in a variety of religions who have some success.  Perhaps there is a natural explanation we don't yet know.

And as for people's religious impulses, the human mind is one of the most complex and mysterious things out there.  It contains religious impulses, altruistic impulses, violent impulses, sexual impulses, and so forth.  Religious people choose to call some of these good and some evil -- and it is true that some of them have positive effects and some negative ones.  That isn't necessarily proof that following some of these will send you to heaven and following others will send you to hell.  The human mind is weird enough that we seem to be capable of convincing ourselves of almost anything.  You can write off visions and revelations to the same source.

Here's the thing, though: I don't find this view of the world upsetting, or depressing, or any of the things it's supposed to be.  I think the world would still be beautiful.  Nature itself is an amazing, complex, beautiful thing, even without the supernatural.  True, a universe like this would not care about me in the slightest.  This as taken as a reason not to believe in it, but I think that's irrelevant -- we should believe in what's true, and not believe in what is false, even if the false point of view seems more attractive or comforting.

And Catholicism is actually not that comforting.  Being a good Catholic, as I mentioned before, is not going to give you wealth or comfort or even happiness in this life.  It's not going to guarantee that horrible tragedies won't happen to you.  Tragedies happen at roughly an equal rate to believers and non-believers.  In fact, as my mother used to say,

The rain it raineth on the just
And also on the unjust fella.
But mostly on the just because
The unjust stole the just's umbrella.

In other words, following a religion may prove disadvantageous in this life, because we have to follow an inconvenient moral code that the non-religious don't have to worry about.  The only rewards for following a religion are spiritual ones -- that is, they are undetectable until after you're dead.

It kind of frightens me that there are such weighty consequences for something that's so dang hard to detect in the first place.

Friday, October 3, 2014

Seven quick takes


 Miriam is six weeks old now!  On Monday she was nine and a half pounds.  I guess I don't need to worry that I'm starving her.  She was baptized last Sunday -- unfortunately I got no pictures because at our parish they have all the parents and godparents circle around the font and as a result no one can see anything or take any good pictures.  Oh well.  She looks identical to the other two and wore the same gown, so we can just make duplicates of those.  ;)


The past couple of days we've all been walking around the block every day, checking out the fall colors and picking up leaves.  In the spring and fall, I think the best way to enjoy the changes is to take the same walk every day.  Then you don't miss a thing.  The painted maples especially have to be seen every day, because every day they're a different kind of beautiful.

But I've been promising I'd take them down to the river soon, and so today I made up my mind to go ahead and do it.  The weather report was for clouds and rain, but it said the rain wouldn't start till three.  Well, go figure, as soon as we set out the sky cleared and it was beautifully sunny the whole time, with a cool breeze.  Perfect October weather.

Walks are great for Miriam, because she reliably sleeps in the wrap even on a bad nap day (which seems to be most days these days).  Now I can't transfer her into bed when we get home without waking her -- in fact, it usually wakes her if I so much as sit down -- but today we walked a good long time and she got a whole nap in.

Every time we go down there, I wonder why I don't do it more.  I live three blocks from a famously beautiful river.  Sure, the hill on the way back is steep, but the kids are able to walk it all themselves, albeit with a bit of whining, so at least I don't have to push a stroller.

It was lovely.  The sky was blue, with white puffy clouds.  The trees were just beginning to get a scattering of yellow leaves, with splashes of red where the Virginia creeper twines up the trunks.  The water was clear and placid, and on the surface a speckling of leaves drifted slowly down.  I could have just sat and looked at it all day.

For awhile we stayed at the dock and boat launch area, where I sat on a bench and knitted, Miriam kicked around on a blanket, and the boys threw leaves in the water.  Then Miriam was tired, so after a good nurse I put her in the wrap and we all went walking down the path.  It's a beautiful walking path along the river, lined with sycamore trees and these twisty ones that hang over the water.  At one point there's a dog park, which was why the kids wanted to go that way.  Even when there are no dogs, they like to run around and pretend to be dogs.  Marko ran over to me and insisted I help him unscrew the top of the fake fire hydrant.  I said it doesn't unscrew.  He said .... "Then how do the dogs pee in it?"  Sigh ... if only dogs were that tidy.

I was excited to find that the path has been extended since I last walked it to the end ... there's a tunnel under the train tracks and it now goes all the way to Skyline, where there are hiking trails.  I really wanted to keep walking, but it was getting close to lunchtime, Michael refuses to pee anywhere other than at home, and I figured we'd better get back before we hit against the limit of time we can be out without meltdowns and disaster.


As we walked, no fewer than three people told me, "You've got your hands full!"  I just smiled and said, "Sure do!"  I don't think it's just because I have (egads!) three kids now, because people said it when I had two.  I think it's just the accepted way to acknowledge the presence of someone who has babies or toddlers.  Especially people who have been through that stage know it's kind of exhausting.

Having your hands full is more about the ages of your kids rather than how many, I suspect.  At least that seems to make more difference in my own level of overwhelmedness.  Right now it's Michael who's the issue .... or at least, the combination of him plus a baby.  He's too young to listen and obey just from me sitting in a chair yelling at him -- he needs me to jump up and actually make him follow through.  And if I've got a baby I can't.  Whereas Marko is very easy to explain the situation to: "I am trying to put her down for a nap, so if you are very quiet, in half an hour I will be able to do something with you."  He even responds to the less than perfect parenting maneuver of "stop taking all the books off the shelves or you'll be going to your room as soon as I can put this baby down."  And really 90% of the time he actually does fine with just, "Don't make a mess or noise right now."


But as it is, I feel like all I do is hold the baby trying to get her to nap, and as a result ignore a lot of behavior I'd rather curtail, like taking all the books off the shelves, emptying the blanket cabinet all over everywhere, or playing with the canned food from the kitchen.  I know that if I tell them to stop, I have to follow up and actually make them stop, which usually involves getting up, which almost always wakes the baby.  And then if I finally do get her down, I am lucky to clean up the most obvious and irritating part of the mess before she wakes up again.  She is, like Michael, one of those babies who goes down nice and easy and then wakes up twenty minutes later, not really rested.  Marko did it too, but I would just rock him back to sleep right away and he'd sleep another hour or two.  Only first children get to have that kind of treatment!

So, yeah, I have my hands full.  I love each kid individually, but the combined mass of them is exhausting.


I finished the Vorkosigan Saga, which is a great tragedy.  Not the Saga--my finishing it.  Because when you finish something, there isn't any more.  And after that excellent series, I don't wanna read anything else.  There are no end of classics available online, but the thing about classics is they are a bit denser and harder to read than modern fiction, and I am too tired and distracted to focus on that kind of thing.  There are free copies of many books I would like to read online, but I am relatively certain they're pirated, so I'd better not.  I could go to the library--and I do intend to as soon as I get a chance, whenever that might be--but the trouble with dead-tree books (which I otherwise VASTLY prefer over digital) is they take a bit more effort to read while nursing than a laptop does.  I can turn pages with just one finger on the computer.  And anyway nothing other than the Vorkosigan Saga has those awesome characters and story arcs and mystery!  Sigh ... I went and got emotionally attached to the people in those books, and now I'm all lonely for them.

Can you think of anything to read that fits my criteria .... free, easy to read while nursing, light (both easy to read and not tragic), intriguing, preferably scifi or fantasy?  Recommend it please!


The reason I have to have something to read is because my imagination gets bored if I don't.  I need something to think about while I'm doing dishes or nursing at 3 a.m., and there is nothing in my life that is all that interesting right now.  So at present I am working on my next novel.  Of course it's not at all a good time for that, because I have so little free time, but at least I can brainstorm for it.  I know it's working, because I dreamed about it the other night.  I like having interesting dreams based on what I've read, written, or watched lately.

There's also Dr. Who, of course.  I watched the famous Weeping Angel episode (Blink) last night, while John was on a panel for the Chamber of Commerce.  (I think I got the better end of that deal, don't you?)  One of those really fascinating episodes that leaves you puzzling over it after, trying to figure out how all the tiimelines fit together.

And then I dreamed about that last night.  I dreamed I was in a support group for the Doctor's ex-companions.  Half the attendees had babies.  One was telling about how much she missed time travel, and broke down sobbing .... which was super awkward for the Doctor, who was there.  Maybe even more awkward for the current companion, who was also there.


Girls' clothes.  I planned to dress Miriam in the same stuff the other two wore, because I don't see any reason why girls can't wear clothes with puppies and baseballs on them, but of course all the relatives have pitched in and Miriam has a respectable quantity of real girls' clothes.  Mostly very cute stuff; people know I don't like pink so there's a lot of teal, purple, yellow, and so forth. 

But there's a problem.  Boys' clothes are so easy to match -- the pants are almost always neutral so you can put any shirt with any pants.  Girls' clothes?  Ha!  She owns three pairs of newborn pants and they are all purple.  So I can't just throw the boys' old shirts with them -- I have to actually match stuff.  This gets even hairier when considering her brown-and-green socks and blue-and-green diaper cover that I knit for her .... they just don't match well with girls' clothes!  I have also discovered that I don't like pants on babies anyway, because it's a pain in the tookus to take them off and put them back on, 20 times a day, to change diapers.  I think I will keep her in dresses all the time, with her long socks on under.  But none of her dresses have long sleeves.  So far I'm just putting her in the sweater Tiffany made her every single cold day, but I'm thinking I'm going to sew her a couple of long-sleeved dresses.  Can't be that hard, can it?

I'm beginning to think our forebears had it right when they dressed both boys and girls in long white nightgowns.  One color, one size.  Hem them up when the baby starts to walk.  Put them in pants when they're done with potty training.  Clever.

How's your week been?
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...