Life at Nine Weeks

Truth to tell, these pictures are already a little old, Pippa is quite a bit bigger and chubbier!

When I talk to people who are about to have their first baby, there is something I always like to tell them. It's not uncommon knowledge--but it's a phenomenon I was woefully unaware of during the first weeks with Maria.  I'll write it here for good measure:

Dear First Time Parent,

It is normal to feel like you've fallen down a rabbit hole during the first months with a new baby.  You may discover, as I did, that your offspring finds life to be a "stern, solemn" thing.  She cries a lot!  Is it gas? Is it colic?  Is it deep disappointment at not being been born into a hunter gatherer Eden?  Whatever it is, the baby wants to be nursed and carried day and night, and nothing in your education will have quite prepared you for the physical and mental challenge of it.   Take comfort, first-time parent!  Know that you just have to muddle through for a while.  Around three months, things will  somehow--almost inexplicably--become easier.

Recent weeks have found me clinging to my own words, looking for signs that the muddling stage will give way to a new order.  We may be less bewildered than were were during Maria's early infancy--we've learned a few valuable tricks, and  I've been toughened by four years of nursing--but the chaos has scaled to fill a four bedroom house and the lives of two additional little people. Our home is a whirl of laundry, play food, and  pieces of wood debris (we rely on daily wood fires keep the house comfortable).  Many's the time that Donnie or I have raised our hands to the heavens and exclaimed "Squalor!   Squalor!" in lament of the piteous state of housekeeping. 

That I'm writing this now is a sign that a new order may be emerging.  Pippa is asleep downstairs, having been put to bed awake. Yes, she seems to be learning the trick of falling asleep on her own.  What a mercy that is, after two babies who only learned the trick after many nights of ninety minute scream sessions!  And now, in this blessed, scream-free calm, I'll write of the incredible sweetness of having  a little baby in the house again.

It is lovely how older girls have taken to their new sister.  From the start, Maria has cast herself in the roll of teacher, seeking an intellectual connection with her youngest sibling:

"Pippa, I'm Maria.  You're Pippa.  That's Mommy. This Place you're in is called a house.  Everything outside the house is called the World.  The World is on a Planet called Earth.  One, day, you'll come to my school and  I will show it to you---but it won't be the real thing, it will be a Globe."  

She ties string to popsicle sticks to make "magic wands" for the baby to grasp and decorates the baby in felt jewelry.  When Pippa is upset, she says, "Pippa, Mommy is here!  Sister is here!"  And when that fails, she waltzes away and occupies herself elsewhere, seemingly unconcerned by the crying.

Loulou, true to style and age, takes a more physical approach.   When we introduced Pippa to a pacifier, Louisa, decided that it was her job to put the binkie back into the Baby's mouth when the baby let go of it.  Loulou became the guardian of the binkie,  , running across the room to replace the pacifier and shrieking in protest when anyone else performed the function.  (Over the last weeks, we've managed to misplace the pacifiers, and haven't gotten around replacing them, so this isn't so much of a thing now).  Loulou is more apt to join in  the chorus when the baby cries.  Her overtures to Pippa take the form of nearly crushing hugs, which the baby seems to mind only a little.   Pippa isn't in the room, Loulou will ask where she is.

There are outbreaks of jealousy and lap wars.  There are plenty of screamy moments and sighs of  relief when all littles are in bed, but they don't overshadow the convivial side of  life with three little girls.

Of course there is the sweetness of the baby herself: those plummy, soft cheeks and the perfect curve of eyelashes closed in sleep; the way she seems to be longer and plumper after each nap; the kaleidoscopic expressions of concentration and those elusive, incandescent smiles.   Pippa an excellent nurser (gained three pounds last month).  Temperment-wise, she seems to resemble Maria more than Louisa (though I have a hard time articulating why--and life may well prove me wrong).   She is the first of the girls to have blue eyes (M and L both had slate gray eyes that looked from the get go like they were heading for brown).  We have genes for blue, hazel, and brown eyes  floating in the family gene pool, and it will be exciting to see which color emerges.  But those light eyes seem to project a question mark. What will this baby become?  A newborn's potential is a terrible in the old sense of the word, as is her dependency.  When I think on this, I grow a little wobbly in the knees.  But mostly, we just enjoy this funny, cuddly, and sometime difficult nine-week old.  She already has a collection of nicknames--Pipsqueak, Cutie-kins, Snort-buckets--but my favorite is a souvenir from a wedding we went to in St. Louis--it's Billikin. 

Expecting a Ferr-acle

We were in our hotel room in Vienna.  The girls were finally down for the night, after a tiring dinner at the hotel restaurant. During dinner, it had taken all of Don and my resources to keep the girls from putting ketchup and schnitzel grease fingerprints on every knick-knack in the restaurant.  (There were many knick-knacks).

Me: Can you believe that this time next year, we'll have another Verkel around?

Donnie: Verkel?

Me: "Verkel." It's German for "piglet." 

Donnie: Oh!  I thought you were saying 'ferr-acle,' the combination of 'ferret' and 'miracle.'  I can't think of a better way to describe our children!  I thought you were just that great of a poet.

Well, I'm not that great of a poet, but I am pregnant.  Our ferret-miracle is due January 1st.  We are very happy.

Face It/ 7 Quick Takes (Vol. 1)

A friend once proposed a rival site to Facebook, called Face It. People would only post when they were having a bad day and wanted commiseration. No vacation photos or cute children's antics allowed. Face It posts are written in that spirit. They are "complaining songs" to put it in the parlance of Winnie-the-Pooh.

Beloved Readers, Please regard this as an epistle from the Land o' Jetlag. I'm also joining in on the 7 Quick Takes Friday link party over at Conversion Diary.


--1--
We're back in France after our month-long sojourn in the U.S. Actually, The girls and I are back in France. Donnie is in Scotland, hopefully buying a kilt--wait, no--I mean making friends in the Computational Topology Community and marching forward in the vanguard of Science.

--2--
June has 3o days. We realized this last Saturday, as we made our way to baggage claim after our overnight flight from the US. I had Maria riding on my back in the ergo carrier with Louisa in my arms. Donnie was lugging our formidable array of carry-ons. Maria was exhausted after sleeping only one hour during the flight, and intermittently broke forth in great, reverberating wails that carried through the terminal.

Don: So, I guess I coming back here tomorrow.

We had had it in our heads that Donnie would have two days at home before flying off to the Topology conference. We forgot that, though our flight was leaving the 29th, we'd be landing on the 30th, and....you got it....June has only 30 days.

--3--
Our summer calendar is honeycombed with workshops and conferences, when Donnie will be away. It's important at this stage in Donnie's career that he get out there and meet people, and it's a great blessing that his work provides the travel budget for him to do this. But we do miss him. With this latest trip in particular, I'm gritting my teeth, waiting for his return.

--4--

Indepedence Day was low-key. I dressed the girls in their patriotic Osh-Kosh-B'Gosh outfits (thank you Auntie Ci-Ci!) and we visited my Aussie friend Marisa and her baby, Chloe. Chloe was also dressed in red, white, and blue, which was surprising and rather touching. Marisa fed us wonderful rhubarb cake (made from home-grown rhubarb), which in my mind, stood-in for the traditional strawberry short-cake.

In the afternoon, I googled "patriotic videos for kids" and ended up showing Maria the Peanuts Mayflower Voyagers on Youtube. Not seasonally appropriate, but once I found it, I couldn't bring myself to navigate away. We went on to watch several other Peanuts videos. Maria was enthusiastic about "Noopsy" (yes, the rearrangement of s diphthongs is still with us--but wouldn't "Noopsy" be a great name for a cartoon dog?).

Perhaps it's that Maria is now old enough to appreciate holidays; perhaps it's that being in France has me feeling tenderly about my nation's traditions, but I have a distinct feeling of having missed the boat. After reading this wonderful post on how to celebrate the 4th of July, I'm hoping for some meaty Independence Day celebrations in years to come.

--5--
Bibliodefense

Louisa reached a number of major milestones during our time in the States. She learned a proper belly-off-the-ground crawl. She also learned to pull to a stand. She's faster and stronger and grabbier than when we left.

Now that we are back in the confines of our small apartment, Maria is not so pleased with her sister's new level of mobility. A while back, we told Maria that she should keep her books away from Louisa so that Louisa wouldn't chew on them. It seems Maria took our words as a kind of mandate. She goes into alarm mode when the baby nears her books, yelling "I need some help!" (That phrase has become a great catch-all for Maria. ) Or she takes matters into her own hands, and tries to push or pull Louisa away. We've had some talks about how the baby's safety is important than that of the books.

So far, we've been incredibly lucky in how well the girls get along with one another. I don't see this lasting long (fingers crossed), but I think it's funny that Maria is so protective of her books.

--6--
As the first sentence of this post suggests, Jetlag has been a big thing this week. I didn't manage to get Maria to kindergarten even once because we've all been sleeping in so late. The girls have actually (sort-of) been going to bed at reasonable time. They're sleeping late because they've been skipping naps.

I've been staying up into the wee hours trolling blogs, reading Agatha Christie, and doing other things that fall into the category of "quasi-worthwhile." My Jetlag has been exacerbated by Donnie's absence. It's always harder to settle without the mate close by.

The thing about being up at night, is that it's easy to mistake the cause of the wakefulness. Is it jetlag that has me blogging at this time of night or some manic, unfulfilled desire? What am I doing with my life anyway? Commence existential crisis.

I'm rather good at ascribing deep emotional causes to my physiological states. Let me give you an example. Once, I was in the kitchen preparing a meal, and I suddenly began to feel all teary. I ransacked my brain. Was I sad? Was I anxious? Was this a tide of suppressed pain brimming over my subconscious, at last making itself known? I pulled all kinds grievances out of the closet of my mind, and tried them on for size. It wasn't until after I'd gotten myself into a foul mood, that I looked down and saw that I had been cutting an onion.

Even being aware of this tendency, I still fall pray to it, and the creeping neurosis of the early morning hours.

--7--
BABIES. Two of them!

That is, two of my greatest friends from childhood are each having a baby, both due in December.

I found this out is on Sunday evening, and then didn't fall asleep until 7:30 am. Joyful news to be sure--but in my tired, yet woefully awake brain, the good news underscored the how far I am from my two friends, and how long it has been since I shared in their day-to-day life. It seemed vaguely tragic that they could be a third of the way through their pregnancies already.

Blubb. Blubbbbb.

This goes to show you...If you find yourself awake with Jetlag, go ahead and watch a movie or two. Otherwise you'll take the best possible piece of news and find something to get all mopey and sad about.

But seriously----BABIES!

On that wonderful note, goodnight!