Zora Travels

Panic Button

Ok, ok...the past few days I have been caught up in a frenzy about toddler feeding and nutrition.  This morning was the crest of that wave.

My panic button was pressed.

The following sentence sent me into a spin of FIRST, wanting a donut; second, fearing for Nora; third, feeling anxious.

"Your child will grow up to feel about eating the way you do.  If that gives you a little thrill of dismay and dread, you have work to do."

After leaving a frantic voicemail for Kathy, I had to step back and take a breath.  A few of them. 

• First, no driving to a donut shop. 
• Second, Nora is going to be fine. 
• Third, my anxiety is not from this mountain of a mole hill.  I feed Nora pretty well and she is a good eater...there's something else underneath at the root of all this.

Hmmmm...my stressors...

Part of it is that I am suddenly overwhelmed by the academic/professional void in my life since being out of work now for over a year. At first it was just awesome to NEVER have to go to work but t he initial euphoria of motherhood is no longer new.  I have even caught myself looking longingly at my professional teacher slacks in the closet. 

Calls and emails to pre-baby friends often (and understandably) go unanswered for a long time...I imagine that's because they are busy with their jobs.  Applying their minds and time to something outside of the domestic sphere.

I used to be important (please don't tell me I'm important to Nora...I inherently get that).  I mean that I used to be a highly-respected English teacher.  Colleagues sought out my advice on curriculum, behavior issues, methodology.  I was the mentor and coach to new teachers.  I had a strong and passionate voice at staff meetings.  Administrators praised my abilities.  I was proud of being a teacher.  Yes, I complained..but at the end of the day, I knew I was good at it.  I used big words.

Parenting is different.  Sure, on MOST days, I know that I have done a solid job parenting my daughter...but my brain still feels more and more gelatinous by the hours of grocery shopping, cleaning, dishes, laundry folding, dealing with cloth diapers, cooking meals, and the phenomenal hours of engagement and entertainment provided to Nora.  Prior to motherhood, I did not particularly enjoy cooking and cleaning...and yet, there are now hours allocated each day to these tasks.

In addition to missing my profession, we are in the first week of escrow on a house.  A gigantic step in the land of adult-financial-responsibility (more to come on this as the process moves along).

Daniel is also going to return to graduate school for the next 3-5 years to pursue his MBA...while we continue to move towards having a second baby.

A year ago, this entire list of items would have normally been discussed and vexed and mulled over with a beautiful group of friends.  Friends that have busy lives...all of whom now work outside the home.

So, would I like some cheese with my whine?  Yes, I would.  A huge chunk of sharp, blue-veined, morbier, please...and a donut on the side.

Wait, isn't that how this post started?  Coming full circle.

I ain't no therapist but looks to me like some "transference-to-food-of-anxiety-over-other-things".

• Longing for genuine friendships and time to daily talk.
• Missing my career of a decade.
• Vexing about a potential 5 years of many nights/weekends of single-parenting of perhaps two (kind and veggie-filled) children.
• Starting the process of buying a home in the midst of a major recession.

 

Huh, it's all making a lot more sense.

Because, truth be told, the advice from the book led to instant and amazing results.  Not a single screaming fest since I gave up on my tricking and pleading and shenanigans at meal time.

Here's a photo spread that tells the following story from Lulu's perspective:

  "Mom was stressed out about me eating vegetables, although, I really just wanted to eat them myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  You see, I am devouring it when it's part of the tortilla casserole that her and Daddy eat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I even got to drink from a cup by myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I didn't quite understand how to do it...but I was having fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Well, until it splashed on my face.  I'll practice this more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  But my first "Independence Meal" ended well.  I had lots of sauce in my hair and water on my clothes...but I'm a big girl. 

Thanks, Mom, for noticing."

 

 

 

 

 

Fotos am Montag: Week 46 - Tanzen & Musik

Ich habe heute Morgen am Radio dass Deutschland wird Arbeiter im Zukunft brauchen gehört.  Deswegen, will ich ein Bischen auf Deutsch schreiben.  Es ist güt für meine Sprache...und auch viel Spass für meine Freundinnen die diese Blog täglich lesen (ja, mein ich DU, Anna).

Knüdeln ist ein grosse Musik Fan.  Sie tanzt hin und her sehr schnell jeden Morgen vorne ihre Tisch mit die CD Spieler.  Sie ist verueckt fuer Welt Musik...wie Ihre Mama.  Geil, oder?

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  Nora is a dance (tanzen) and music (Musik) fan of giant proportions.  She is insistent upon hearing her tunes each morning.  She crawls over to the cd player and waves her hand back and forth, shimmying her body to the phantom melodies that await her. 

This morning was hysterical...we had NPR news on and I meant to turn up the volume when I instead, changed the station.  Music poured into the kitchen, Nora smiled and started to dance.  I quickly flipped it back to NPR and she looked at me, opened that juicy mouth and screamed bloody murder.  I asked her if she wanted to listen to music and she crawled towards her room.  I placed her African jams cd on and soon she was kissing her fluffy bear and bouncing her big-diapered booty on the floor to the tunes. 

  She is such a music lover...like her dad and her grandfathers.  Daniel has turn-tables and old albums and listens to music constantly.  Daniel's dad was a dj and was always playing mixed tapes on their road trips.  I have vivid memories of my Grandpa Thurm  bouncing his feet whilst strumming his guitar and singing Willie Nelson. 

Music flows in Nora's veins.  And this will encourage me to keep the playlists coming during the day.  Satiating that part of her mind that wishes to sway and bounce and dance, dance, dance.

 

To see ALL of the WEEKLY shots, click here.

 

Fotos am Mittwoch: Week 39 - Swingin' with Dad

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Father's Day Weekend was lovely.  A visit to a local park for time on the swings, hanging on the net, and watching the people pass by.

 

 

A video from last week...hanging out with my girl in the morning.

 

 

She is on the move...zipping around the house and pulling herself up on everything possible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We had a blast at little Shane's birthday!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hanging out with Hamlet's family...look at Ari back there...with that mischevious look in her eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saying goodbye to my Dad and Carolyn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kisses from Grandpa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nora now plays shy with a little head tilt.

"Budda Bee-Bee"

Daniel came up with Nora's nickname "Budda Bee-Bee" several months ago.  It has several variants...but this is his name for her.  He coos it to her in the morning.  He weaves it into all the Beatles songs that he trills.  He whispers it to her softly before bedtime.

Noodle is all giggles and smiles with her dad.  In the morning, around 6:15 when she starts to chirp, it is Daniel who goes into her room and delivers her back to our bed for a morning snack.  He piles the blankets up around me so she can't see him.  Any of his sniffles, coughs, or words will send her off in a hunt for him...leaving me leaking like a faucet.  When she finishes, she pats down the blanket pile.  Rocking and lurching towards him.  Thumping on his chest.  Fingering his beard.  Patting his stubbled face.

So it is wonderful to show them at play in these photos...on a lazy weekend morning.  When there are no eggs to boil, lunch pails to pack, or id cards to find.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whining (mine, not hers)

I whined last night.  I told Daniel that I needed to whine.  He said, "Okay, whine." And I did.

As much as I relish my hours with Noodle, there are still days when I crave Daniel's arrival from work with such zeal that I am sitting with her on the grass in the front yard as he drives up.  We are feigning an interest in the grass, the leaves, the sky...but really, the clock is ticking.  The minutes are passing until I will be able to share in her care, go to the bathroom with the door closed, and make a snack without simultaneously singing "Twinkle Twinkle."

It is on these nights that I lurk near Daniel, waiting for his chest to be flat and free...and once Nugglet is down, dinner is eaten, and teeth are brushed...towards him I fall.  Nuzzling into the crook of his arm, asking him to touch my hair, and so I can begin my sad sad tale.  It usually goes something like this:  "Nora didn't nap well today.  I just don't know why.  Nothing has changed.  Maybe she's teething or having a growth spurt.  She doesn't want to be put down.  I am so tired.  I don't get enough sleep.  I am so tired.  I want to go to bed early.  I have to pump now.  I hate pumping.  I feel like a cow.  I hope she sleeps for a while. I am so tired."

Then one of us reaches for the video monitor.  We stare at her sleeping.  We comment on how we love her so much that it hurts.  One of us imitates her sounds, her faces, her toe wiggles.  Daniel squeezes me tight and I soon I am falling asleep.

Nothing wrong with a good whine (wine) now and then.

One of my favorite videos lately...a freshly fed Noodle, showing her buttery sweetness...and never-ending appetite.

 

                                                                                                                                                                                           And here's a video of her laughing at her dad tonight while enjoying some pears. You can really see her two pearly nubs. Those sharp nubs make for interesting feedings at times!

Boogers and Burpees

So, this is now my life.  Waking up in the dark of morning and performing this amazing full-body exercise a whopping 75 times (called a burpee) along a curb in a dew-laden park. 

Disclaimer:  My form did not look even CLOSE to the one below.  A lot slower, less bounce, and only an ever-so-slight hop at the end.

 

A few hours later, I was licking my thumb and wiping away crusty boogers on Nora's face.

And I LOVE both aspects (not the boogers or burpees, in particular)...rather the natural growth in my motherhood as I overcome my previous extreme aversion to all nasal passage contents and the utter joy of my soaked grassy shoes and aching arms.

I pinch myself sometimes when people ask, "When are you returning to work?" and I respond, "I'll be home for quite a while."   I am immensely grateful for this opportunity to be home with Noodle and that Daniel is willing to put in the daily freeway slog and cubicle time to finance this time.

Due to Nuggs not having daily access to daycare or pre-school (still not quite sure what the difference is), it has occurred to me that I want to learn a wide repertoire of silly songs, rhymes, activities, and animal sounds to sprinkle upon her day.  I may never own a large rug that is crawling with letters and numbers or a giant parachute with bright bold stripes and handles...but I certainly can set up a musical area (which now consists of a red bell, bamboo sticks, and a wooden pecking chicken toy) and a reading area filled with books that show Nora the faces of a multi-cultural world. 

And about that parachute...I've tried to match the excitement.  I have a cloth world map that I billow atop Nora's face and as it falls I tell her  which countries she's touching with different body parts ("Peru just fell on your nose.  Why are you pinching Pakistan?") 

When she naps for her hour (usually 3x per day), I first zoom around to accomplish a smidge of house-tidying and then with the remaining 30 minutes of her slumber, I delve into updating her baby book, or her milestone calendar, or staring into cyberspace at favorite blogs, facebook, or German newspapers.  I am even tackling my first German novel (with dictionary on the side) since Berkeley in '99.

My new FAVORITE blog that absolutely cracks me up on a daily basis is this one.  I could never (ever, ever, ever) imagine writing about sex and lube on this here blog...because all I can imagine is my mother-in-law sitting under the halo-crowned picture of Jesus and crucifix in her study.  But Brittany, the author, manages to whip around these subjects with a humor that I adore.  I'll have to continue reading her posts to see so many of my thoughts and experiences laid out into words.  One of the funniest posts recently is this one.

And since I did just type the phrase "sex and lube" on this blog, I must make amends.  Here's a video of Daniel and Nora in one of his famous pursuits of her belly laugh.  Man, does this girl love her daddy.

 

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Awaiting the belly laughs

We are officially awaiting Nuglett's first belly laughs...but in the meantime we will just have to adore her screechy bursts.

 

A Christmas Memory

**The next installment of the "Tree Shoot."  We were apparently boring her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weeks ago Daniel started talking about trains.  As a little boy of 8 or 9, he received a train for Christmas.  His voice had such a sweetness when he spoke of playing with it and I started to imagine his face if I gave him one.  The research began.  Which gauge of track, which company, which design?  There are hobby stores an hour away...online stores a click away.  Tubes of smoke, bridges, and miniature people.

Then we went to my cousin's house for the anual cookie exchange.  There, around Wayne's tree, chugged a long train with passenger sillouettes lit up in the cars and a whistling locomotive.  Daniel was smitten.  He sat down aside the train and fiddled with it throughout the evening.  Bringing Nora to sit on his lap and stare in wonderment at the humming machine.  I overheard him mention several times to people that his train set as a boy was one of his favorite gifts ever.

That night I was overtaken with the Santa spirit and with two clicks of my mouse, a train was delivered to our house.  And next to my dear, I sat in great cheer.  Awaiting the rips of the early un-wrapping so bright, Nora bouncing on his knee in delight.  Soon the engine revealed itself, my job quite well done as an elf.  And soon we shall circle the train around our tree, our beautiful family -- a family of three.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Yes, it's an "early" gift.  Otherwise, we leave for his family's house and wouldn't have a chance to see it under our tree this Christmas."

Daddy's girl

I'll let the photos and video speak for themselves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Princess & Hipster

There is something a tad odd about giving birth to a child that everyone claims looks nothing like you.  Most strangers and Daniel's family members don't see even an ounce of me in Nora.  My family tries really hard to point out small traits and Daniel assures me that she has my curvy feet...not even the toes, mind you, but the arches,

So what? I carried a baby who makes me think of her father with each glance, especially with her luxuriously abundant eyebrows.  She mirrors a man that we both miss as the long twelve hour stretches without him tick by during the week.  I am grateful for that.

But I still keep searching for photographs that show us around the same age in similar poses.  It's natural, after all, to want to see yourself in your biological baby.  (*I differentiate here for parents that have adopted or are "steps" to their little ones.) I know she'll grow and likely transform many times into mirrors of both of us - physically and with our sundry personality quirks.

For now she's a bit more D than A...but there's me in there.  Something about the shape of her face, the way we move our hands, and yes, the curvaceous arches of our feet.

What do you all think?  I am, obviously, the six pound princess on the pillow above and Noodle is the 9 pound hipster kickin' it to the left.