It seems to me that trying to live without friends is like milking a bear to get cream for your morning coffee. It is a whole lot of trouble, and then not worth much after you get it. - Zora Neal Hurston
It is Day Six. The sixth day of Nora feeling sick and tired. Yesterday, the doctor confirmed my suspicion. Her cold had manifested during the week into double ear infections. She has now sipped three doses of electric pink bubblegum-flavored antibiotics...to no avail. The moaning, clinginess, exhaustion, and nursing continue. She still refuses all other food, any other comfort.
***Remind me with the next baby to PLEASE teach the little one to take comfort at night with Daddy, too. Being the sole provider of night-owl pats, hugs, and rocking...night after night...for hours and hours...while the other parents snoozes...leads to a tinge of resentment during the day. Granted, I am JUST as responsible for creating this inbalance...but it's not the best set-up.
Even my mom's butternut squash soup, corn bread from scratch smeared with butter, and warm apple-oatmeal crisp couldn't entice Noodle to eat. It's only All-Boob-All-the-Time.
But maybe I'm losing weight! Hey, now that's a positive.
So, what does a family do on a marvelous three day weekend with a sick baby (after we've canceled all our fun plans)? We pull out the sofa bed, pile up the pillows, and play a game of "Round and Round" with the little snot-faced cutie.
You have to REALLY love Budda-Bee-Bee to watch this video. But I think it's great. She also said TWO more German words today..."Tschuess" and "Nase." You can hear her little "Bye" and "Tschuess" (German for "bye"), if you listen closely. Note her clasping her hands casually behind her back as she wanders around the corner. Love that. Again, this video will bore 99.99999% of you.
(Keep in mind this is also my 6th day in the house, I've finished a novel, burned my eyes on facebook, Words with Friends, the newspaper, and knitted half a hat for Lulu Bell. Videotaping the mundane is a wecome relief.)
There are countless motherhood moments that I wish to burn into my mind. They can't be captured in words, photo, or video. All senses combine to form these perfect morsels of connection between my daughter and me.
As I rocked Nora just now, nursing her down to sleep (yes, yes, I know...not sure if it was her or me not ready to give this up)...my fingertips swiped wisps of her cocoa brown hair behind her ear, swirling around to smooth the skin between her eyebrows. Her eyes blinked heavily as her soft fingertips poked my nose, outlined my lips and patted my cheek.
I have memorized the contours of her face, the cadence of her frantic "time to nurse" pants, the scratches of her nails, and the smell of her milky breath. Please let me never forget.
Even when she resists my staged photo shoot and screams at me because I won't let her run into the driveway. Her screams, by the way, could break glass.
Here is a photographic evolution of one of Nora's ever-more-frequent meltdowns (I totally feel your pain, Luke and JeeYoung!).
"Hmmm...I know, I'm going to run towards the cars!"
"What? Did you seriously just tell me 'No'? Why?"
"Why aren't you letting me run down the driveway?"
"You are totally ruining my life."
"Ugghhh. Unbelievable!"
And no, she's not moving into adult cutlery...this is pure Filipino tradition. She was very curious.
Then pissed.
Her official "13 months shot." Captures her right now perfectly.
Finally, she officially has hair long enough to style into shampoo swirls and spikes!
My familia is on lockdown. And this is what it looked like today...day four of sequestering ourselves away from people to avoid spreading our germs. My bff and I reading and soaking in the sunshine in our back yard.
The "Easter Bunny Flu" swept down upon our family with a wicked vengeance. By far the most powerful stomach bug I've ever witnessed. Of the 24 merry-makers at my dad's on Saturday, 19 of us have fallen down on our knees to the porcelain god. Over and over and over.
Nora doesn't yet fall upon her knees...instead she sweetly projectile vomited my milk back upon my chest, down my legs, on Daniel's back, atop his slippers, all over the bed. Again and again and again.
The joy didn't stop there...her other emissions were equally forceful. Zipping out of nearly every diaper. Gushing down my legs, across my bare toes, upon the floor, up her back, on towels, on beds, on rugs. Again and again.
As Daniel finally succumbed to the bug, I was so exhausted from retching and nurturing and cleaning and fretting...that I poured him some ginger ale, kissed his clammy forehead and wished him luck as I closed the door. Hours would pass before I would check on him again. Keeping in my own fluids and that of our daughter became a labor-intensive adventure.
True love is when your child covers you in her barf and shit...when you are still dealing with your own...and you sit in this flu-rainbow as she sucks on a Pedialight popsicle, petting her head, kissing her hot cheeks, and singing a Beatles song.
It is my mission not to spread this bug here in Long Beach (apologies to the 100's exposed on the flight home from Washington...that was simply unavoidable). I have canceled all our social plans. I am craving my "Mommy & Me" friends and the interactions for Nora...but alas, Daniel and I are enjoying stomach-friendly meals, short walks, and the brilliant sunshine and gentle breezes of spring.
Today's title applies to the scooching acrobatics that Nora is engaged in throughout the day. Her arms are the last hold outs in her quest to crawl. They remain staunchly planted as her knees flex and scoot under her hips. Her downward dog is near perfection...I'm envious of her form. A future yogini in the making.
Each morning unfurls more of Noodle's physical abilities and I have the fortune to sip in each moment ...without rushing, still in my pajamas, smiling as I sit near my rocking, stretching girl. An almond milk, flax seed, frozen banana smoothie in my hands. Max and Sophie running past. NPR news flowing into the nursery where it muddles the airstrikes of Tripoli with children's folk songs.
And at this moment, Nuggs is rolling around in her crib - after only sleeping 30 minutes. She coos and rubs her eyes and lifts her head and falls again to the mattress. I stare at the video monitor...hoping she doesn't start to cry...wishing that she would fall asleep again...if not, the morning will most likely be punctuated by one adorably fussy baby. It's this morning nap that is key. Miss it or shorten it and Nora will remind you all day long that you caused her a great offense.
I remember a few months ago writing about our typical day. It was vastly different due to an erratic sleep pattern...so, I'll describe a typical week day again (post-sleep training).
6:30am -- coos and screeches alert me that Nora is awake, a brilliant smile and panty "hello's" greet either Daniel or I, as we scoop her up
play time on blanket (while I make my smoothie), dancing, petting of Max and Sophie, read a book or two
8:00am -- nurse in glider, turn on sound machine, put her in sleep sack (*before zipping up the sack, I kiss her feet, knees, belly, hands, and forehead...she loves this), slow dance while singing a lullaby (usually "Puff the Magic Dragon"), cover her cherubim cheeks and head with kisses and place her in her crib
9:00am -- wakes up with grunts and growls and smiles
bath time, morning walk around the 'hood, sometimes a workout at bootcamp or down at the beach with other moms (yes, I am now the leader of a beach stroll & stair workout...imagine, ME leading exercise!)
11:30am -- another nap routine
1:00pm -- more grunts and growls get my attention
run some errands, meet some moms for coffee or playdates or picnics, play time, more petting of Max & Sophie
4:00pm -- another nap (this one is a struggle, she tosses and turns for 30+ minutes before sleeping for usually 30 minutes)
5:00pm -- sits in booster seat on kitchen counter, eating ice through a net, sucking on wooden spoons, watching me cook dinner...lasts for 20 minutes or so and then I half-cook and half-entertain
6:00pm -- Daniel comes home and rescues her from the culinary side-show
6:30pm -- bed time routine (*same as nap time...except whispered song is usually Patsy Cline's "Walkin' after Midnight")
^nursing sessions in quiet darkness (without interaction) occur around 9-10pm, 1-3am, 4-5am
Awe, look at my little plan above. It's gorgeous and scripted and only happens 50% of the time. Remember when I said Nora was stirring after only 30 minutes of sleeping? Well, it's now 9:15am...she is up on her hands and knees and making all sorts of grunts...her first nap is a flop. So, while the above plan looks fabulous --- it is a guarantee whenever you tell anyone your plan that your baby will demonstrate their desire to be unpredictable.
Thank you, Nora. You keep me on my toes. Just when I have you pegged, you make me think again. What made you giggle yesterday is utterly rudimentary today. The toy that sparked your interest is now old news. Luckily, my breasts remain spectacular; my embrace, comforting; and my cat sounds, amusing. Everything else is up in the air.
But, man, that plan up there sure looks good. Here's to you, baby girl, inch by inch. Even Mt. Everest is climbed one step at a time.
And a bonus video of Nora playing in the Superman band with her Ninong (Godfather) Jake. Quite the musicians, these two.
Nursing is a love fest. I smooth brown wisps of hair behind Nora's ear. Her hand clutches my breast possessively. Her eyes alit with excitement...sometimes she grins so wide that milk spills from her mouth. She is just beside herself with glee. These moments I savor. Moments shared only between her and I. About ten times a day - savoring each other, tenderly sharing our time. I whisper stories, inside jokes, and seal the memories with gentle kisses upon her tiny fingertips. She grabs my finger and shakes my hand back and forth over her head. She pulls back and stares at me...grinning...then latches back on.
Sipping in these moments. Praying that I'll never forget how snuggly she fits upon my lap, how soft her cheeks are, how bright her eyes shine, the length of her lashes, the strength of her grasp, the breathy pants as she latches, the love we share.
If only I had known during those days of mind-numbing pain, raw, cracking, bleeding agony that this experience awaited me. Every day. Each time. Absolute bliss. This is the good stuff.
Nora is going through some sort of growth spurt. She eats every hour for a half an hour...so, yes, the math in that equation leaves me with 30 minutes of non-nursing every two hours the entire day. I can't say I mind it though. I woke up today to offer "service with a smile"...just like during my seven years as a waitress through college...boobin' her up as soon as she started gumming. So, after singing, jingling bells, yoga stretches, a warm bath, massage, teething toys, a walk, and reading books all lost their magic, we snuggled up for some eatin'. We snuggled A LOT. She's quite happy with this arrangement. She even got to fall asleep for two of her naps in a solid latch.
I have been struggling with the sleep training we had planned to start this weekend. I realize that with Daniel not really into the concept...and my own reservations, that it's just not the right time to begin. We'll keep Noodle snuggled between us for the time being. If/when I am too much of a zombie to function, then we'll reconsider the nighttime logistics. And who knew that this topic was just so darn controversial. One book makes you feel like a demonic parent for abandoning your scared child in a wooden prison to cry alone...another doctor writes a book about how you are abusing your child by not giving them the sleep their developing mind vitally needs. Both authors with medical degrees. Both theories "sound" logical when you're reading them.
So many people have told me to savor every moment and I am trying to do just that. I know that Nora's voice is changing, her legs are turning into chubby hamhocks and her scalp is less visible as fuzzy brown hair wisps in. The videos below are an attempt to capture just some of her normal daily goings on. Nothing special...actually quite boring. (But I always know Courtney & my mom won't roll their eyes!)
In the morning, after we finish singing our "sunshine" songs and greet Max & Sophie, we launch into some tummy-time on the mat. Working those muscles up for some crawling in the future. Nuglett is also showing off her vocal talents these days (sometimes it really hurts my ears). Rarely does she sweetly gurgle anymore. It is the land of the mega-screech.
And those gurgles which used to pour out all day are often now only heard right before she falls asleep. This video is ONLY audio...visually it is just the blanket over her face as I bounce on the yoga ball. But these sweet utterances I know I'll miss when they disappear. She won't make these sounds if she sees the camera...she goes silent and stares at the black eye; hence, the blanket screen.
I love to fly. Absolutely love the rush of the airport, the loading onto the plane, thrill of lift-off, blue skies and puffy clouds, and the destination anticipation. Today is a new chapter in my aviation repertoire...my first flight with Nora. Her packing list, certain to make more-experienced moms chuckle, is lengthy (click to the right to see how silly we overpacked...thanks L/JY for the cute idea!). My nerves are a bit frazzled and my patience is a bit short. Just like my mom, I packed for the kid and for myself...and found items Daniel might need along the way, too. It's not that D couldn't figure out Nora's needs but I wanted to do it. I went through every one of our daily actions...trying to figure out what is packable and what makes me look absolutely insane.
I suppose Noodle just needs some clothes, diapers, wipes, and boobs. That list is so simple; yet, our enormous suitcase is 80% full...allowing D and I to slip in a few things. It is the first time in over 15 years that I have had to check in luggage. So much stuff! Cute, colorful, noise-making stuff...but so much. We laughed imagining what we will have to pack when we fly to Germany next year. And yes, that's a "when" and not an "if." After all, you have to think positive.
And my jitters aren't just about being away from home for several days with a baby...but also about the potential TSA tussle about my breastmilk (I am actually typing this portion of the post AS I'm pumping the "liquid gold" wearing a hands-free wrap). Word on the street is that they don't always know their own regulations...so, we've kindly printed them. This lady from CBS News had a horrible experience and had to dump 15oz of precious leche. This lady at the Phoenix airport, who didn't want to put her milk through the x-ray machine, had to wait 70 min. in the special inspection area and missed her flight while they figured out what to do with her dangerous fluids. I am uncertain of putting my milk through the radiated x-ray machine but can't find any substantiated concerns on medical or scientific websites.
So I'm crossing my fingers for a merry journey on the plane during Nugglet's highly volatile hours. Perhaps a few extra pairs of earplugs for our fellow flyers would be in good form.
Happy Thanksgiving! My next post will be from Viva Las Vegas!
*As I hit post, Daniel is wrestling to zip the biggest suitcase with which I've ever been associated. Oh my goodness, we are loony! He's going to weigh it now...praying it will be under 50 pounds...it isn't...56 lbs.
Going to hunt down some things to leave out. Do you think I should take out her activity mat?
Nora is ALWAYS crystal clear about her likes and dislikes. Here is today's list:
Her likes:
Mama
Mama's left boob
Mama's right boob
Mama's arms
Fresh air while in Mama's arms
Her dislikes:
"Mommy & Me" yoga
infant massage
baths
diaper changing
changing clothes
car seats
detaching from Mama
Now, all of these above were easily predicted; however, I had hoped (hoped beyond hope) that she would relish our "Mommy & Me" yoga class this afternoon. I talked to her openly and passionately (with a musical accompaniment) about how wondrous the class would be. We discussed how Lauren had been my pre-natal yoga teacher, our doula, and one of our first visitors. That the studio would be bathed in vibrant colors with Hindi Gods brightly captured on cloth hangings. Peace flags draping the doorways. Mellow music flowing and fellow yogic-mamas and babies blissfully downward dogging while mild incense wafted around us.
Noodle seemed to listen.
She nursed eagerly on the bench outside of the class.
I placed her atop a two-blanket pad at the top of my mat. The baby lotion was pumped into my hand and warmed. A gentle massage commenced with her sweet pink feet. Lauren guided me up her squishy thighs.
Somewhere after the clockwise tummy rub and the baring of the arms...Nora lost it.
And I mean LOST IT. And no amount of nursing, bouncing, happy jiggle-walking outside on the balcony, running of water in the bathroom, more nursing, patting, soothing, or Patsy Cline crooning could calm her down.
I calmly packed up our things, lotion, baby blanket, pacifier, water bottle, and yoga mat. Murmured a quick and quiet, "Sorry everyone" to the child-posing mothers. Stuck my keys in between my boobs, slung Nora over my shoulder, and hustled to the car. I discussed with Nora that we could try another time and that she could settle down before I buckled her back into the "torture seat." She screamed, "No," and I buckled her in.
It wasn't until Cher's, "Do you believe in life after love?" had been playing for several minutes that I heard her say, "I just wasn't ready, Mama. Be patient with me," and then her head slumped awkwardly forward and she fell asleep.
***This is the closest I've come to capturing her smile on camera. Right after she wakes up in the morning, as I talk to her and sing silly songs, she offers her biggest grins of the day.
Daniel's mom is bouncing Nora on the yoga ball as we speak. I am scarfing down a lovely chicken salad and just hoping for 10 more minutes "Nuglett-free" to eat and use the restroom. These are such luxuries and Ma is making so many of them possible this week. My left arm is getting quite a break from holding the Little One.
What a lucky little girl Nora is to have three Grandmas to love her up. Every single one of them could take her for a weekend in the future...without any question. Not that I wouldn't feel similar to Claire with a bit of sadness, as she currently experiences three days of Veronica at the grandparents' house, but I think I would relish this time so much.
When could such a weekend occur? Is it too soon to wish for it in November? I just want to snuggle with Daniel without a nursing baby between us. It is my dream of late. Luckily, when we are all ready, there are many arms to take her.
And I suppose that this future babyless weekend is even stronger in my mind today because of last night. Thank goodness that babies are so darn cute because after last night...it is Noodle's silky skin, little fingernails, cooing sounds, and dark brown eyes that bring me back from the edge. Last night she did not want to sleep --- actually all yesterday AND last night she didn't want to sleep. Simply wanted to nurse, and nurse, and fuss...then nurse, and nurse, and fuss. And this pushed my thoughts into the time long ago when I fell asleep curled near the heat of my husband, reaching for him in the morning, waking up and fixing him boiled eggs and coffee before he leaves for work. Instead, I woke up every hour or so...took a very active baby out into the dark cold living room and watched an episode of Dexter, asking her softly, "What's wrong Sweet Girl?" and only hearing frantic lips smacking and feeling her head turning madly side-to-side as she roots for my breast (for the fifth straight hour).
When Daniel leaned over us girls at 7:00am to wish us a good day, my bloodshot eyes and raspy voice unraveled the tale of our night. I couldn't help but think how very different this slice of morning was only six weeks before. I would have been clad in my white robe, swollen Nuglett belly barely covered by the velvet fabric. Kissing Daniel on the sidewalk and waving to him as he pulls away and disappears around the corner. Then I would kneel to pick up the paper and head inside, rubbing my belly, and soon drinking a smoothie while I soaked up the LA Times...two hands, well-rested, at peace, no hurry.
But here's where nature's genius is never more obvious. I am a bit loopy today. A bit tired. Tense shoulders and neck from negotiating various nursing positions out on the couch late at night.
YET
When Nora (right before this picture was taken) smiled as I buried my face in her belly, I felt rejuvenated, thrilled, electric, warm, and joyful. Sure, I'm still tired. But her smile, her first 100% TRUE SMILE, and I mean a legitimate (no gas involved) grin, radiating from those squirrel cheeks with arched brows and squinting eyes, simply clouded every other sensation.
**Today's video below shows a wiggling Nuggs in great spirits after her morning walk...wearing adorable grey booties from her Auntie Anna.**
As you can see, you are pretty darn cute. Here you are wearing a hat from Grandma Susan's grand scheme to take newborn photos. And you look stinkin' edible in this fuzzy little hat with a tail. But just as quickly as your ruby lips can shine with milk drops and your eyes can sparkle with curiosity...your whole world seems to fall apart and you suddenly look like...
this.
But you are my greatest love affair. I have bathed in more patience, grace, mess, laundry, and selflessness these past few weeks than ever before. On our daily walks, I prattle on in German about the things we see. I brush the leaves of various trees across your chubby fingers. I bring your face, blinking and squinting from the bright sun, near the roses that bloom along our wandering route. I sing my own words to songs by Patsy Cline and the Beatles. I admit to laughing sometimes when you've nursed for an hour and then start eating your hand with apparent starvation only minutes later. I do attach you again...but the chuckle is necessary as I settle into the reality that you can possibly crave so much time sucking on my body.
I love you, Meine Liebe, Noodle, Nuglett, Monkey-Mouse. Tomorrow you'll be one month old. Time is flying by and I adore getting to know your electric personality with each passing hour that I am blessed to stroke your face as you lie upon my lap and fill your tummy and spirit with comfort.
