We got out of the house by 11. The goal was 9ish. But there were many distractions along the way. Plus I was filling the kidde pool in the morning, so the water could be warmed by the sun. So a test dip was necessary. And then we had to 'move the' duck. And get some clothes on (one of us was showered and dressed, I'll let you guess who). And start the beef stock.
Finally got in the car, drove half a block and out like a light (one of us, the other stayed awake for the driving part). Got gas and got to the spice store. I turn on my computer and format two subheadings before she woke up. Drat.
Beanie loves shopping. She likes to look around, say hi, carry stuff. She's actually just fine in stores. She might take something to look at , but I can't really scold her, "Don't touch that!!!" because I like to touch everything -or read labels- in the store too. If I ask her to reshelve something, she does and in the general spot too. I've seen plenty of dairy case items in the cookie row to know that adults are worse. She did like the spice store, it's just too bad everything was sealed up and not available for some smelling.
We also went to the grocery store. Beanie will get onions for me, help carry items to the scales, pick out mushrooms with the tongs. Today she stayed in the shopping cart, which does make life nice for mama.
We came home and I tried to do some chores while she played outside. The pool is a big draw. A friend came over and they played in the pool, chased the not-so baby ducks and generally mucked about.
And she fell asleep an hour earlier than normal. So, I get to do some editing... yippee....
Sunday 30 December 2012
Friday 28 December 2012
February 6, 2011
Oh Serenity. I miss you, girl.
***
Bea has a multitude of nicknames. So many, in fact, that I don't think she recognizes any as 'her' name.
As a matter of fact, the dog also has many nicknames. She does know her 'given' name. She also basically just answers to tone of voice, as we've tried calling her in gibberish and she still answers. Such is a dog.
The cat also has a few nicknames.
But Serenity, Serenity is just Serenity.
We rarely refer to her by her Chinese name. She never got a sweet name like cutie or sweetie. She never learned to smile. She never was a stinker nor acted squirrly.
She never revealed her personality to us. She never had favorites. She never did anything remarkable.
But we love her still.
***
I see her in the butterflies, the snow, the rain, the fall leaves. Today we will burn incense for Da Ku* and Serenity at the park. I will put out birdseed where we released butterflies. We will read a poem or two out in the cold, on this overcast day. And we will bake a cake.
* Triple S' oldest aunt passed away and her funeral is today (or yesterday) in China.
***
Bea has a multitude of nicknames. So many, in fact, that I don't think she recognizes any as 'her' name.
As a matter of fact, the dog also has many nicknames. She does know her 'given' name. She also basically just answers to tone of voice, as we've tried calling her in gibberish and she still answers. Such is a dog.
The cat also has a few nicknames.
But Serenity, Serenity is just Serenity.
We rarely refer to her by her Chinese name. She never got a sweet name like cutie or sweetie. She never learned to smile. She never was a stinker nor acted squirrly.
She never revealed her personality to us. She never had favorites. She never did anything remarkable.
But we love her still.
***
I see her in the butterflies, the snow, the rain, the fall leaves. Today we will burn incense for Da Ku* and Serenity at the park. I will put out birdseed where we released butterflies. We will read a poem or two out in the cold, on this overcast day. And we will bake a cake.
* Triple S' oldest aunt passed away and her funeral is today (or yesterday) in China.
Tuesday 25 December 2012
This and That
I just had a 'nursing dream'**. I was an old woman with Alzheimer's. Beatriz walked into the room and I called her Serenity. With a look of resignation, she said yes, after so many times of telling me "No, mom, it's Beatriz". I just broke down and cried, so relieved to finally get to see my Serenity.
***
As I was nursing Beanie, I was thinking about how Serenity's birth is fading from my memory. I never faced my memories of her birth in order to write them here on the blog. But I had written down every detail I could remember shortly after her death. Coming out to the living room after enticing Beanie to sleep, I found the journal. I had started writing down the story from Friday, the day before I think she died. I had stopped writing Wednesday morning, just after the doctor came in, checked me, and told me I could start pushing. So no birth story.
Triple S had also typed up his version. I think his version is more about the actual birth. So maybe we have the whole story between the two of us.
I think I should type up my story and combine it with Triple S', or maybe try to finish my version, which will end up now less detailed. Then I want to print it out. And I want to print out my blog (if anyone knows the easy way to do this from blogger, please let me know). I am going to put everything into a binder then. I know it will forever be on the internet somewhere, but there is nothing quite like paper and ink.
***
Triple S is at a business conference this week. It has given me time to think.
I've never been known for my great memory. Today, I talked with my MIL and she can't remember the details of when Triple S was a baby. I worry that I will forget. I look at Beanie, and close my eyes and try to picture her face in my mind, but honestly, I really can't. I guess I don't have a photographic memory. At least we have pictures of her.
I never studied Serenity's face. This is my second biggest regret. I wish I had looked at her, taken pictures of her, touched and held her more. But as I held her, I could feel the temperature of her body growing cold. It was more than I could withstand. Plus, for some reason, I felt that it must be a rush to get the body autopsied. I feared if we waited, they wouldn't be able to figure out why she died. I later found out that the autopsy defiently did not happen right away. And her death remains unexplained. I squandered the little time we could have had with her.
***
I asked Beanie today why she chose us. Is she a gentle soul, and upon seeing our broken hearts thought that she could take care of us?
**Nursing dream - a dream, maybe a daydream, that occurs while in that drowsy, hormone-induced, snoozy state that accompanies side-lying nursing.
***
As I was nursing Beanie, I was thinking about how Serenity's birth is fading from my memory. I never faced my memories of her birth in order to write them here on the blog. But I had written down every detail I could remember shortly after her death. Coming out to the living room after enticing Beanie to sleep, I found the journal. I had started writing down the story from Friday, the day before I think she died. I had stopped writing Wednesday morning, just after the doctor came in, checked me, and told me I could start pushing. So no birth story.
Triple S had also typed up his version. I think his version is more about the actual birth. So maybe we have the whole story between the two of us.
I think I should type up my story and combine it with Triple S', or maybe try to finish my version, which will end up now less detailed. Then I want to print it out. And I want to print out my blog (if anyone knows the easy way to do this from blogger, please let me know). I am going to put everything into a binder then. I know it will forever be on the internet somewhere, but there is nothing quite like paper and ink.
***
Triple S is at a business conference this week. It has given me time to think.
I've never been known for my great memory. Today, I talked with my MIL and she can't remember the details of when Triple S was a baby. I worry that I will forget. I look at Beanie, and close my eyes and try to picture her face in my mind, but honestly, I really can't. I guess I don't have a photographic memory. At least we have pictures of her.
I never studied Serenity's face. This is my second biggest regret. I wish I had looked at her, taken pictures of her, touched and held her more. But as I held her, I could feel the temperature of her body growing cold. It was more than I could withstand. Plus, for some reason, I felt that it must be a rush to get the body autopsied. I feared if we waited, they wouldn't be able to figure out why she died. I later found out that the autopsy defiently did not happen right away. And her death remains unexplained. I squandered the little time we could have had with her.
***
I asked Beanie today why she chose us. Is she a gentle soul, and upon seeing our broken hearts thought that she could take care of us?
**Nursing dream - a dream, maybe a daydream, that occurs while in that drowsy, hormone-induced, snoozy state that accompanies side-lying nursing.
Sunday 23 December 2012
It's a new week!
And I am ready for it!
This weekend I sold some old broken necklaces at the 'we buy gold!' place. I guess it was a pawn shop? The necklaces have been accumulated over the last decade or so, as I always thought I would go get them fixed. Bah. Just sell them for scrap. We also sold some of Triple S' old earrings. I also took more clothes for consignment. Slowly but surely cleaning house! My goal is to keep this up and get rid of something every week. I have to start finding something for this week...
I have also been sorting through Beanie's clothes as she (rapidly) outgrows them. I kept gender-neutral things and got rid of stuff I didn't like. I did keep some girl things that I really thought were cute. Clothes we didn't want went to two of Triple S' coworkers. I also have lots of baby gear to get rid of - some of it we never even used! Some we tried, but either I didn't like or Beanie didn't like.
I read on one of the minimalist's blogs, or perhaps on the FlyLady, that the money is gone when you bought the junk. So don't think that you are throwing it away now! I just try to remember that.
Triple S and I sorted ourselves out. I am not really a jump-up-and-down happy kinda person anyway. I am happy for him that his career looks like it is going well. I explained to him that I am happy and proud and feel like it is going well. But, this move is hard on me and us. It's a lot of work! The thing I am REALLY happy about - the generous moving package they offered - someone else can pack up all of our crap! (which should be less than it is right now, but it's still gonna be a lot).
***
I heard a story on NPR the other day about a look back at the Feminine Mystique. The guest mentioned how in the 60's the mom's were criticized about how they took care of their kids and husbands and also had limited job opportunities! That must have sucked! I just think, how did our country go so wrong back in the 50's 60's. Getting kids on schedules, pushing formula (I think formula is a great option if something is not working, but shouldn't be the first choice), and all the other crazy things I've heard about. Those kids somehow managed to survive, but it has trickle down effects into society, no? How a mother treats her child and is herself treated by the father affects a kid's personality and development and their expectations.
From what I have learned, there are two ways to handle life. You can let negative things become internalized, and spit those negative things back out, at your wife or kids or at those around you. Or, you can try to do things differently. So, if you came from an abusive house, you could become an abuser or you can try to escape the cycle and make a conscious effort to avoid doing what was done unto you. This goes for basically anything - you can be reactionary or actionary. Like the movie "Precious" (which we just got around to seeing earlier this month).
I try to be an 'attachment' parent. But then my upbringing casts doubts, and I worry that I might be coddling Bea or letting her get away with too much. She is starting to get to the age where she should learn that some things are permissible and some aren't. (And I have been consistently pointing such things out since forever, but she is at the age now where she *should* be understanding and responding!!!)
I am not ready to say that she is at the age that she can be disciplined, because I haven't figured out what that means to me yet. I don't have a really good example of discipline from my life that speaks to me. Actually, what I am doing is my definition of discipline, it's just the way that is more work for the mama. Right now I am just doing a lot of picking her up from the dog's water bowl, setting her on the other side of the kitchen, watching her as she crawls back over there and picking her up again. Repeat about 10 times while I am cooking dinner. And doing this for 20 other crazy things. I can be patient!
I know what I don't want to do.
I could spank her, or grab her violently, or yell at her like a banshee. I am sure she would 'get' it more quickly. But I am not going to do that. My parents would probably think I was crazy for doing what I am doing. Well, my mom would have just plopped me in the playpen. I prefer letting Bea explore.
We just watched the documentary "Babies" this weekend. It made me feel exhausted - more than a year for four kids in about an hour! But, I don't feel like I am too neglectful after seeing the mongolian mom leave her kid in the hut while she tended the animals - even tying the kid to the bed! And I think I can let Bea get dirtier after seeing the African kids sitting in the dirt sans pants.
Sorry, dear readers, I know these blog posts are rambling and not well written. But, it's a download! I think about many things, as I know you all do too. Rarely are those thoughts complete! And writing something here doesn't ever mean that I've made up my mind or know what I am doing or what I am talking about. It's about the process, right?
I'd love to know some of your thoughts on the topics I've touched here (the more half-baked the better!)
This weekend I sold some old broken necklaces at the 'we buy gold!' place. I guess it was a pawn shop? The necklaces have been accumulated over the last decade or so, as I always thought I would go get them fixed. Bah. Just sell them for scrap. We also sold some of Triple S' old earrings. I also took more clothes for consignment. Slowly but surely cleaning house! My goal is to keep this up and get rid of something every week. I have to start finding something for this week...
I have also been sorting through Beanie's clothes as she (rapidly) outgrows them. I kept gender-neutral things and got rid of stuff I didn't like. I did keep some girl things that I really thought were cute. Clothes we didn't want went to two of Triple S' coworkers. I also have lots of baby gear to get rid of - some of it we never even used! Some we tried, but either I didn't like or Beanie didn't like.
I read on one of the minimalist's blogs, or perhaps on the FlyLady, that the money is gone when you bought the junk. So don't think that you are throwing it away now! I just try to remember that.
Triple S and I sorted ourselves out. I am not really a jump-up-and-down happy kinda person anyway. I am happy for him that his career looks like it is going well. I explained to him that I am happy and proud and feel like it is going well. But, this move is hard on me and us. It's a lot of work! The thing I am REALLY happy about - the generous moving package they offered - someone else can pack up all of our crap! (which should be less than it is right now, but it's still gonna be a lot).
***
I heard a story on NPR the other day about a look back at the Feminine Mystique. The guest mentioned how in the 60's the mom's were criticized about how they took care of their kids and husbands and also had limited job opportunities! That must have sucked! I just think, how did our country go so wrong back in the 50's 60's. Getting kids on schedules, pushing formula (I think formula is a great option if something is not working, but shouldn't be the first choice), and all the other crazy things I've heard about. Those kids somehow managed to survive, but it has trickle down effects into society, no? How a mother treats her child and is herself treated by the father affects a kid's personality and development and their expectations.
From what I have learned, there are two ways to handle life. You can let negative things become internalized, and spit those negative things back out, at your wife or kids or at those around you. Or, you can try to do things differently. So, if you came from an abusive house, you could become an abuser or you can try to escape the cycle and make a conscious effort to avoid doing what was done unto you. This goes for basically anything - you can be reactionary or actionary. Like the movie "Precious" (which we just got around to seeing earlier this month).
I try to be an 'attachment' parent. But then my upbringing casts doubts, and I worry that I might be coddling Bea or letting her get away with too much. She is starting to get to the age where she should learn that some things are permissible and some aren't. (And I have been consistently pointing such things out since forever, but she is at the age now where she *should* be understanding and responding!!!)
I am not ready to say that she is at the age that she can be disciplined, because I haven't figured out what that means to me yet. I don't have a really good example of discipline from my life that speaks to me. Actually, what I am doing is my definition of discipline, it's just the way that is more work for the mama. Right now I am just doing a lot of picking her up from the dog's water bowl, setting her on the other side of the kitchen, watching her as she crawls back over there and picking her up again. Repeat about 10 times while I am cooking dinner. And doing this for 20 other crazy things. I can be patient!
I know what I don't want to do.
I could spank her, or grab her violently, or yell at her like a banshee. I am sure she would 'get' it more quickly. But I am not going to do that. My parents would probably think I was crazy for doing what I am doing. Well, my mom would have just plopped me in the playpen. I prefer letting Bea explore.
We just watched the documentary "Babies" this weekend. It made me feel exhausted - more than a year for four kids in about an hour! But, I don't feel like I am too neglectful after seeing the mongolian mom leave her kid in the hut while she tended the animals - even tying the kid to the bed! And I think I can let Bea get dirtier after seeing the African kids sitting in the dirt sans pants.
Sorry, dear readers, I know these blog posts are rambling and not well written. But, it's a download! I think about many things, as I know you all do too. Rarely are those thoughts complete! And writing something here doesn't ever mean that I've made up my mind or know what I am doing or what I am talking about. It's about the process, right?
I'd love to know some of your thoughts on the topics I've touched here (the more half-baked the better!)
Friday 21 December 2012
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Friday 14 December 2012
The First Day of Christmas
I made an ornament for Serenity.
It's not much, but I made it. It matches the one I sent for the Ornament Exchange.
I used blue, white and silver paper and silver stickers. On the back of the tag it says 2010.
I don't know why I chose blue. I've never been much for the green and red. But, really, I think it is because the ornament looks like tears.
It's not much, but I made it. It matches the one I sent for the Ornament Exchange.
I used blue, white and silver paper and silver stickers. On the back of the tag it says 2010.
I don't know why I chose blue. I've never been much for the green and red. But, really, I think it is because the ornament looks like tears.
Monday 10 December 2012
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Thursday 6 December 2012
Thanksgiving approacheth
Ah, it's that most wonderful time of year. That over the river time of year. It's time for Thanksgiving.
It's my favorite holiday, ya know.
I could skip Christmas (and have, the year we went to Mexico).
I've got a free-range, never-frozen turkey sitting in my fridge (slaughtered, of course)
I've got print-outs of wheat- and dairy-free recipes in the kitchen.
The parents are on their way.
Uh oh. Screech. Halt. My parents.
Oh joy. Oh anxiety. Oh my utter lack of patience with all things parental.
I have been stressing all week about the coming criticisms.
Last time they were here, my dad sat and watched the baby cry right in front of him. For goodness sake, just pick her up.
He is always telling me what things I *have* to do with Beatriz (or to her).
"She needs to be in her own bed. She has to learn independence"
"If you want her to sleep, just give her a bottle, then you don't need to be there"
"She has to learn to cry"
To most of which I think "What the fuck? That doesn't make any sense" Then I think "Wow, I must have been a miserable baby" Then I realize I ought to say something, without being reactionary. Without it disintegrating.
I am afraid it is going to be a long week. When Bea was first born and my parents were here, it was ugly. The trip in July was marginally better. This is after 10 years of me really working on trying to understand and feel, not sympathy, but compassion?, for my parents. To understand where they come from and not to let where they are in life negatively affect me. And I just feel bullied by them. Well, mostly my dad, I suppose. My mom just doesn't listen or hear. And she is also going deaf (physically).
And Bea is just so darn cute. I am not sure they appreciate this. And I think she is happy. I think that counts as a positive for what Triple S and I are doing with her.
So much has changed in parenting since I was a kid. My mom didn't breastfeed my sister or me, and I don't think either of my parents were breastfed either. We were let to cry ourselves to sleep those first few nights, until we just gave up. We were to be seen and not heard. I don't remember my mom ever getting down on the floor and playing with us. In fact, she loves to proudly tell me that I loved being alone in my playpen and fought to get back in when my sister kicked me out (no wonder I am such a home-body).
I am consciously doing many things differently than the way I think my parents did it. And I hope to continue to do so. I am sure that I am making mistakes, and will make many more. I just don't aprreciate being criticized about it, almost as second-nature, without them even really thinking about what they are saying.
The big problem is, I don't want to fight with them about it. I don't want to be short with them, or to throw it in their faces that I think they did things wrong. I am sure they tried. Did the best they could with their resources.
I have been trying to come up with ready retorts.
I checked in with Triple S and he is happy with the way we are doing things.
I want Bea to feel safe, and secure, and to know that she can alwas come to us.
Because I never felt that way with my parents. I still don't. I can't trust them with my emotions. I muddled my way through my teen years because they weren't there for me.
And it's not just because they left me to cry in my crib. It was a childhood of thoughtless comments and strict, ever-changing rules, and lack of respect for me as an individual. Even as a kid, you are still an individual.
I want Bea to see me handle stress with grace.
And the parents definitely cause me stress.
****
If I don't make it back here in time:
To all you Americanos:
Have a peaceful, happy, and stress-less Thanksgiving.
To the rest of you:
Have a nice Thursday! ;)
It's my favorite holiday, ya know.
I could skip Christmas (and have, the year we went to Mexico).
I've got a free-range, never-frozen turkey sitting in my fridge (slaughtered, of course)
I've got print-outs of wheat- and dairy-free recipes in the kitchen.
The parents are on their way.
Uh oh. Screech. Halt. My parents.
Oh joy. Oh anxiety. Oh my utter lack of patience with all things parental.
I have been stressing all week about the coming criticisms.
Last time they were here, my dad sat and watched the baby cry right in front of him. For goodness sake, just pick her up.
He is always telling me what things I *have* to do with Beatriz (or to her).
"She needs to be in her own bed. She has to learn independence"
"If you want her to sleep, just give her a bottle, then you don't need to be there"
"She has to learn to cry"
To most of which I think "What the fuck? That doesn't make any sense" Then I think "Wow, I must have been a miserable baby" Then I realize I ought to say something, without being reactionary. Without it disintegrating.
I am afraid it is going to be a long week. When Bea was first born and my parents were here, it was ugly. The trip in July was marginally better. This is after 10 years of me really working on trying to understand and feel, not sympathy, but compassion?, for my parents. To understand where they come from and not to let where they are in life negatively affect me. And I just feel bullied by them. Well, mostly my dad, I suppose. My mom just doesn't listen or hear. And she is also going deaf (physically).
And Bea is just so darn cute. I am not sure they appreciate this. And I think she is happy. I think that counts as a positive for what Triple S and I are doing with her.
So much has changed in parenting since I was a kid. My mom didn't breastfeed my sister or me, and I don't think either of my parents were breastfed either. We were let to cry ourselves to sleep those first few nights, until we just gave up. We were to be seen and not heard. I don't remember my mom ever getting down on the floor and playing with us. In fact, she loves to proudly tell me that I loved being alone in my playpen and fought to get back in when my sister kicked me out (no wonder I am such a home-body).
I am consciously doing many things differently than the way I think my parents did it. And I hope to continue to do so. I am sure that I am making mistakes, and will make many more. I just don't aprreciate being criticized about it, almost as second-nature, without them even really thinking about what they are saying.
The big problem is, I don't want to fight with them about it. I don't want to be short with them, or to throw it in their faces that I think they did things wrong. I am sure they tried. Did the best they could with their resources.
I have been trying to come up with ready retorts.
I checked in with Triple S and he is happy with the way we are doing things.
I want Bea to feel safe, and secure, and to know that she can alwas come to us.
Because I never felt that way with my parents. I still don't. I can't trust them with my emotions. I muddled my way through my teen years because they weren't there for me.
And it's not just because they left me to cry in my crib. It was a childhood of thoughtless comments and strict, ever-changing rules, and lack of respect for me as an individual. Even as a kid, you are still an individual.
I want Bea to see me handle stress with grace.
And the parents definitely cause me stress.
****
If I don't make it back here in time:
To all you Americanos:
Have a peaceful, happy, and stress-less Thanksgiving.
To the rest of you:
Have a nice Thursday! ;)
Tuesday 4 December 2012
Meeting that right person
I am enjoying reading the 'Right Where I Am' posts. Thank you all for your comments; I will visit your blogs when I can.
***
Little Beanie has a friend that was born on the same day. We all met after they were born, but became fast friends. It's sad to leave them - we have even joked about them moving down to TX after we get settled.
Last week, on FB I asked if anyone could play with Bea for a few hours so I could get some packing done and Triple S could study. Of all my friends, all the people I've known for years, all the people that said 'we'll babysit anytime', this husband and wife volunteered.
On our first playdate, back in late fall or early winter, the mom and I talked. I talked about Serenity, and she told me that she lost twin boys.
And I wonder how she and her husband felt chasing after two toddlers born on the same day. Close, but not quite right.
***
Little Beanie has a friend that was born on the same day. We all met after they were born, but became fast friends. It's sad to leave them - we have even joked about them moving down to TX after we get settled.
Last week, on FB I asked if anyone could play with Bea for a few hours so I could get some packing done and Triple S could study. Of all my friends, all the people I've known for years, all the people that said 'we'll babysit anytime', this husband and wife volunteered.
On our first playdate, back in late fall or early winter, the mom and I talked. I talked about Serenity, and she told me that she lost twin boys.
And I wonder how she and her husband felt chasing after two toddlers born on the same day. Close, but not quite right.
Sunday 2 December 2012
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