on baby time

When you have a baby (and maybe any size kid - I don't know yet), it's not so much that you don't have time for other things. You do have tidbits of time, but they are interspersed among baby-focused activities to where often tasks are left half completed. This is already a problem for me in general life - not finishing things - and it's exaggerated now.

Also, a person has to be really flexible with when they do what. For example, if you've got 5 things to accomplish on your list today, first off you better change it to 2. If one item is "cleaning up the last three days' worth of dirty kitchen," don't plan on a straight stretch of time to work on it. You'll do a sink full of dishes, stop to change a diaper, notice that there's spit up all over the baby's outfit and she needs changed, realize you're running low on laundry and had better start a load, etc. etc. You'll come back to the kitchen an hour later and get the nagging impression that you've been working on this one thing all day long. Another aspect of the flexibility is space. You may be cleaning up the bedroom, but if the baby needs a nap, boom. That project is now officially OVER. Or, on hold, rather. So you've got to be okay with changing courses.

A helpful reminder to me as of late, from the book, "God Among the Shakers" is to take joy in my work, whatever it is. Those people were/are INTO work. My lands. Back in the 1700's when the Shaker thing was first shakin,' thanks to a quirky lady named Ann Lee who decided to start up a whole new religion based on communal living and no sex (more on this later), they allotted only 6 hours a night for sleep! Otherwise, it was work, worship, be together, eat, and some reading. I wouldn't last long there on 6 hours of sleep. And they have since changed that particular rule. The point is that they viewed work as a sort of communion with God, to be done peacefully and purposefully, not frantically. Hello! And they still do, the 8 of them that are left.

A passerby might see someone mowing the lawn or folding laundry or fixing a meal. Straight forward enough observation. But nobody knows the spirit underneath what that person is doing, and if there's joy and thankfulness in it, it can be worshipful. And isn't that what we're after? At the end of the day, is it really that vital how much we got done, or is it more important what the day added to our soul, how well we felt, how we connected with God, with life, with those around us?

we was away, part 2: the other stuff

(Zoralee in the wagon)

As I look through the pictures, I realize the main thing we did besides attend the conference was arrange ourselves around Zoralee to play with her and take pictures. That, and Mom and Heather got haircuts, and we did a little shopping. On Mom's birthday, we sat poolside in the sun, eating bits of fancy chocolates Rachel brought from Portland.

There's a little dive called "Dick's" underneath the freeway across from the Quality Inn where we stayed. They have burgers for 80 cents and homemade milkshakes in a variety of flavors for like $1.60. People with mullets go there, lean over the counter, and say, "Gimme 8 Super Wammies, 2 cheeseburgers, 2 chicken strips, and a Coke." We went there the first evening, before Rachel's plane came in. I thought for sure we would be there every day, on account of the budget pricing. But, we branched out.

The report on Zoralee is that she was a trooper. Naptimes were all kiddiwomped, as we were in a crowd of thousands of people all day. I had my Ergo Baby Carrier sling, which I adore, and Zoralee slept in that three or four times a day as needed. It was nice to lay on the lawn to nurse, smelling the fresh grass. Once though, I threw the same spider away from Zoralee's head three times, but it kept making its way back to her. Mom, Rachel, and Heather each took a spell or two with her outside, so that she didn't have to put up with blaring speakers too much.
*

Zoralee was amazing with EC (Elimination Communication) on this trip. It is now officially a pattern - we do best with EC away from home. I think it's because I give her pottytunities more often, or in this case, on a regular schedule that lined up with the conference breaks. She went in the motel potty and the arena potty multiple times a day. In fact, I never changed a poopy diaper all weekend. But speaking of poo...

*

Toward the very end of the conference, everybody had gone back inside after a break, and I was on the lawn with Z. There was no one else in sight, so I discreetly took off her diaper to let her tinkle a bit. To my surprise, I heard a noise that indicated Z was doing more than peeing, and to my double surprise, downhill from us about 20 yards appeared a crew of men on their motorized cart, stopping directly in front of us to pick up flecks of garbage. I do say flecks, because this crowd left almost no garbage on the facility lawns. Anyway, they were looking up at us, but I played it cool, holding Z low and tight, with my legs covering her as best I could. Don't mind me, people. I'm just letting my child poop on your lawn. Go about your business. Fortunately, they must not have known, because they continued on their fruitless search for garbage flecks. And once I'd gone, they would've simply thought a mustard packet exploded there. It was just a little bit. Plus, the timed sprinklers were due to come on sometime soon, I'm sure.

we was away, part 1: the conference

My mom's birthday was yesterday, and her one request was that we girls spend the weekend together in Spokane attending the Women of Faith conference there. She and Dad even paid our expenses. Not bad, huh? It was a really precious time together - my mom, Heather, Rachel, Zoralee, and myself. My family is going through some tough things right now, so the combination get-away of fun and hearing encouraging speakers was right on cue.
*
As for the conference itself, I didn't know what to expect, and I was surprised in both good and bad ways. I have been pretty out of touch with the whole pop-christian-marketing-and-paraphernalia subculture for a decade or so. I do love the music and writings of some believers, but only when they're about life as those people honestly see it, with subjects ranging from brown rice to Jesus to pot holders to worship to waterfalls to light to darkness to hang nails. Not necessarily in that order.
*

When we first arrived and saw boatloads of women entering the arena with perfectly coiffed hair and khaki Capri's, I scanned the crowds for anybody who appeared to be a free thinker, a question asker, an individual. Isn't that silly? I know full well that outward appearance is practically meaningless. Yet it's sometimes an indicator of a person's allegiance to a particular group. I was glad when I saw one girl with dreadlocks, EVEN THOUGH she might be more blindly tied to the grunge hippy subculture than the other 14,999 women I assumed were tied to the church lady subculture. Later I was glad to meet a couple gals with homemade slings for their babies. All of this, despite the fact that I am the most generic looking person ever. Yes, I was putting a whole crowd into one box. I know that. Rude. But....perhaps a little true.

*

Standing in the parking lot at the beginning there, Rachel thought she was going to have a panic attack like she did once when we attended a craft day at a relative's house and she'd had to go outside and concentrate on breathing normally. Something about a roomful of domesticity makes her crazy. And this was a whole arena full. (I asked her permission to say this - maybe she'll elaborate.) Anyway, she handled it just fine.

The layout for the conference was that everybody met in the big arena the whole time; we never broke into smaller groups. There were lectures and concerts for about three hours, then a break, when most of us would pour out into the sunshine and lay in the grass. Then, inside for another session.

a rather loud concert*

Several of the speakers conducted an informal forum the first day, answering questions from conference goers about real life issues like abusive husbands and the church's response to the gay community. That was good! I dug the talks by Henry Cloud, author of several books, including Boundaries, which I've heard good things about and now wish to read. He was one of only two male speakers the whole time, and my family agreed it was nice to get some testosterone in there. I also liked the strong focus on world poverty, a subject I would love to see become one of the church's primary concerns (to give me/us ideas of what to do about it!), since Women of Faith has a partnership with WorldVision. It's just one of those topics that, you know, Jesus seems to have cared about. Loving your neighbor, hanging out with the poor and downtrodden and neglected. All that stuff.

A highlight moment for me was actually during a psalm that Sandy Patti sang. All along, an interpreter signed the lectures and songs for the deaf participants. Well, this one song of Sandy's built to a crazy-ass crescendo, naturally, since we're dealing with Sandy Patti. All of the sudden, in the heat of that last chorus, she started signing the words herself while she sang. At that point, the interpreter stopped, because the Real Deal, the originator of the words, was speaking directly to the audience, both the hearing and the deaf. So there was Sandy hitting these high notes with such strength and intensity, but also delicately signing with her hands and arms, "Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah." And the interpreter stood still.

*

That touched me on lots of levels, but specifically I thought of motherhood. I know I'll be trying my darndest to communicate truth to my kid as she grows. I'm the interpreter. I'll be signing the truth I see in the world, the ways of God. Hope. Goodness. But sometimes, when God speaks for Himself, through a sunset or an act of kindness, I'll stop signing and let the event speak for itself, because it'll be coming from the Real Deal.

*

A couple tidbits on what I didn't like. Sadly, there was a lot of marketing thrown into the conference, which cheapened it. They would advertise various books and cds at every break and sometimes mid-lecture. Stylistically, I tend toward anti-pop-culture ideals in worship (like silence, non-flashiness, traditional hymns, or meaningful other music, which I know is totally arbitrary), so the bubblegum flavored worship was difficult for me to participate in. I can totally appreciate the fact that this meets a lot of people where they are (though perhaps the industry brings people to this point and then happily meets them there?...). Often the speakers would lead us in an a capella hymn, for which I was thankful.

catch up monologue

I have 40 million things to blog about, as I've been thinking so much about so many things so much of the time. We got back last night from a weekend in Spokane - my mama, Zor, my sis-in-law, Heather, and my sister, Rachel. It was so great, and I have much to say about it. And I have been thinking about Memorial Day (over a week ago now), and my experiences at the parade. And the book I'm reading called "God Among the Shakers," and how it contrasts with the aforementioned experiences. And how much Zoralee is growing.

But I also have a roast that has been sitting in the fridge for days that will go to ruin if I don't get to cooking it this instant, a pile of crud to put away from the weekend, a photo cd to view from my mom-in-law that will have a few pics from those files we lost, a garden to plant, socks to put away that have stayed on the line for a week, oh, and a growing baby to care for. I'll betcha my sister will beat me to posting pics and tales from our weekend in Spokane, so if you're not a regular to her blog otherwise, there you go.

Coming soon.....the story of Zoralee pooping on the Spokane Arena lawn in front of the garbage-picker-upper guys, some interesting tidbits on the Shakers, including their philosophy of celibacy, and photos of flag-waiving children.

Much love until then.

Zoralee meets Alistair

Alistair and Zoralee were born about three and a half weeks apart (Z is older) and share an uncle and aunt, my brother and his wife. We figure they're shirt-tail cousins of sorts. Alistair and his mom, Jen, were here visiting over the weekend. As you can see from the first pics and video, A and Z didn't get off to a great start. However, by their second meeting, they were buddies.

a couple days later...

5 "Are we there already?" moments

Number 1. Perhaps most startling of all, Zoralee now looks and acts like a GROWN UP baby. She has a whole range of decipherable emotions. My brother, Dave, is home for a bit between graduating from college and going to live in Portland (yay for my brother! That makes all my siblings to stick with one subject and stay in one or two locations long enough to obtain a bachelor's degree, butcept me! And I'm the oldest, the supposed example setter! How 'bout them apples! Yay!). Anyway, Zoralee was quite confused about Dave's presence in the house. Every time she'd see him for the first few days, it was clear she thought, "You're still here?! You are a nice boy, but you do not belong." By now she's diggin' him, but yeah, she crossed over some new threshhold of awareness about life around her, and it's just weirding me out a little.

*

If Zoralee doesn't want to talk to you, or she's done

with a photoshoot, this is what she does.

Number 2: Zoralee's dresser has five drawers. So far, her currently-sized clothing have taken up two drawers (0-3 months, for instance), and the next size up took up two more drawers (3-6 months). I put receiving blankets in the fifth drawer and labeled them because it's an old dresser that's awkward to open, I have a poor memory, and I got sick of opening multiple drawers to find one item.

Last week, I had to take off the tape. I realized we are at the point where Zoralee's currently-sized clothing (roughly 6-9 months) needs an entire dresser. I wish I could emphasize to you how incredulous I was to grasp this. She's got a drawer's worth of long and short-sleeved onesies, a drawer for shirts and sleepers, a drawer for pants, one for dresses, and one for jackets and outdoor clothing. Her dresser is tall and skinny, so the drawers aren't huge, but still! All future clothing must stay in boxes in the closet. There's no way in the world that she NEEDS all these clothes, mind you. But I have already been selective, if you can believe that. And plus, her clothes take up more room now that she's bigger, a small nuance I hadn't considered. What it all means is that it will be a high crime if I ever put her in something non-cute or non-perfectly-functional-for-this-exact-moment-in-history.

*

Number 3. I used to couldn't envision the time when we'd have to babyproof the house on account of Zoralee. Well, we're not totally there yet, but I can see it coming. And soon. She is rolling multiple times in a row, which means she could theoretically make it anywhere. Even up stairs if it weren't for a little thing we call gravity.

*

Number 4: I think she's transitioning from three naps to two. She's five and a half months old. Does that seem about right? I haven't consulted a friend or a book or google on that specific issue.

*

Number 5: Yesterday was the final reckoning of Zoralee's progress toward childhood (Well, for now. What's next - crawling?! Oh yeah, it is.) She snotted on my bath robed shoulder. It is her first real cold, with snot that comes out of the nostrils. So surprised was I that I had to take a photograph. It's faint in the picture; look closely.

Oh, that's another thing. The t-shirt she has on here is a REAL shirt, like real children wear, not a onesie with snaps.

Anyway, Aaaaagh!

a teensy depressing tidbit

I think our external hard drive essentially erased a couple massive folders of photos, specifically from summer 08 onward until Zoralee's birth. Don't ask me how. I'll ask YOU how, any technosaaviers out there. And if you can help me get those pictures back, you'll be my technosavior.

The pics included my last six months of pregnancy, my own shots of labor, my sister's wedding, Jason's work at the Park, and a bunch of stuff I haven't thought of yet but will be more depressed when I do. Fortunately, I think we can piece a representative selection together, from highlight cds we made for people at random times (and are now asking them to mail back), but I hadn't gotten around to making my own backup cds. I am a fool!

Moral of the story: back your documents up on disc! And print onto that old stuff we call "paper" any of the pictures you really, really like.

crunchin' the numbers

Sometimes this kid's brilliance scares me. Take this conversation:

Me: Zoralee, honey, I need to know what is 13.589204 x 3.0178399.
Zoralee: Hang tight, Ma.

crunch, crunch, crunch add a little spittle
lemme verify the maker of this thing...

Me: Quit messin' around. I need that figure.
Zoralee: Got it.

mother's day

It was my first Mother's Day as a mother with a child outside of the womb! My dear family and husband made sure I felt loved, and Zoralee chimed in as best she could. She peed all over our bed first thing in the morning - not her best effort - but there were plenty of smiles and screeches the rest of the day.
*

I love being a mom. And actually, a simple day of recognition and time to reflect practically make up for five months of sleep-deprivation, anxiety over the potential hardships my child will face, the effort of creating a good parenting rhythm with my spouse, sorrow over time already gone, guilt over looking forward to the next stage, adjustment of my schedule to be nearly all baby all the time. Hm. That sounded sarcastic. I couldn't have intentionally written a better sarcastic sentence than that. But I am serious! It's important to catch little glimmers of appreciation every now and again. So, if you haven't yet, thank your mom for being your mom.
*


People talk about a mother's patience, and now I get it. Being the primary care-giver of a baby is a gigantic adjustment of nothing less than your entire life. The image of a trillium ovatum flower is becoming important to me as it relates to the patience of motherhood, thanks to a very sweet Mother's Day write-up my husband gave me using this photo. We've been noticing this flower in the woods around here for the first time ever. They can take up to 15 YEARS to bloom and are very, very rare. They change to a beautiful color of purple later in the spring.

Now a couple pics of the one who has made me a mother.

First off, who has ever seen a cuter shadow than this?

(I doubt anyone.)

on Mother's Day:

And now, I'd like to pay a little tribute to a few special women. My mom is a helluva woman, as anyone who knows her will say. Well, they might not all quasi-swear like that, but you know. Just a sampling of things about her that I really appreciate are these:

• She is smart, practical, organized, and level-headed.
• She wants people to be recognized on their special days and for their accomplishments. This woman seriously writes hundreds of cards a month for people's birthdays, anniversaries, etc. If you'd like a personal card in the mail for whatever reason, email me and I'll pass your information on to my mother. The U.S. Postal Service is weathering this economic storm on account of her.
• If she has something negative to say, it is calculated and usually necessary.
• She has the patience of a Buddhist monk.
• She knows when and how to take a break.
• She loves her grand-daughter!
• She is hospitable, and she taught us how to share. I don't know how many times she came to us kids and whispered, "So-and-so is staying for supper; everybody take just one small piece of meat." (Okay, so some of that is the result of my dad being Mr. Sociable and inviting everybody to stay for a meal who happens to drop by. Which only further illustrates:)
• She is gracious.

Here's a four generation picture from my babyhood.

My only living Grandma (pictured above sporting the 'fro) is the embodiment of a perfect grandma. She:

• attended every last one of our recitals and concerts, ball games and sporting events
• always keeps snacks, gum, and an assortment of random emergency items in her purse (a trait which my mom inherited)
• thus, has a large purse
• rocked me in her rocking chair up into my teens
• has the most glorious, calming, off-key singing voice for during rocking
• is thoughtful, compassionate, and accepting of all manner of folk
• loves her great-grand-daughter!

Jason's mom, Barbara, is a great mother-in-law! How many people can say that? She is not a meddler, as many are prone to be. One of our best things in common is how much we love Jason, her "little dumpling." I don't call him that, naturally. She adores the ground on which he walks, which he has many a time declared to be a great source of confidence to him. Additionally, a few things I appreciate about her are that she:

• loves to travel and has a delightful spur-of-the-moment bug. If she finds a deal, she'll hop on an airplane tomorrow and be laying on a beach in the sun somewhere. That's the kind of action I like to see around here.
• is an optimist.
• is generous and quick to forgive.
• is strong and has an enduring will to live and experience life, despite chronic pain that started at a young age.
• loves her grand-daughter!
• is beautiful.

Here's a four generation pic from Zoralee's baby shower: Zoralee, me, my mom and Barbara (Jason's mom), and my grandma Louise.

more parenthood haikus

the attempt to conceive

Want to make baby.

Tell me how you made yours, k?

Will try anything.

(Rachel)

*

Tried to make baby.

gave husband full body rash.

Maybe anxiety?

(Rachel)

*

We will try again

With less pressure and stress, yes?

It shall be success.

(Rachel)

*

want to be Mommy

to a little girl or boy

come hither, Husband

(Lori)

*

want to be Grandma

to a little girl or boy

get busy, children

(Rena)

*

Baby making tip -

The glow in the dark night cream

may have caused the rash.

(Darbi)

*

Your friends are praying

your bodies will line up soon.

Mini skiier, come.

(Darbi)

*

babies

lessons never end

for her, as it was for us

complete one, more come

(Jason)

*

nursing in the dark

I learn power outtage'd clocks

blink once per second

(lori)

*

first teething biscuit

days later, though she's been bathed,

Zor smells like maple

(lori)

*

remember mornings

when you'd rise from bed alert?

these days, not so much

(lori)

*

general parenthood

subbing every day

thoughts of my own through it all

we will be okay

(Christi)

*

hair dryer is on

cannot hear them or see them

a five minute break

(Christi)

*
we're the perfect team

tag team and fill every gap

mom and dad unite

(Christi)

*

passive aggressive

criticisms wear me down

I'm doing my best

(Christi)

*

five years have gone by

a dash from the first cry to

quoting movie lines

(Christi)