the pieces of my life

I’m embarrassed to admit this, but when Doodlebug and I went to Spangler to visit with Jason, who was at HBS to recruit for Amazon, I put Doodlebug in his Harvard Business School shirt. The worst part of it is he looked darn good in it! (Of course, Doodlebug looks darn good in frog jammies, too, so I wouldn’t read too much into this.)

Seeing Jason was great, and it’s always fun catching up with Seattlites (and it was a virtual reunion as we ran into two other former Amazonians, plus of course, Adam). On one hand it makes me miss Seattle, but on the other it also makes me happy to have moved on. I really miss my friends–I often wish I could walk with Doodlebug around Green Lake with one of my many friends back there who are either pregnant or newly mothered or fathered. And I miss the outdoorsy nature of Seattle, walking along Golden Gardens, listening to the swush of the water in Puget Sound. But I enjoy what I’m doing here. While I loved working at Amazon, my time there was definitely up and hearing what’s going on back there makes me realize that I left at the perfect time in terms of my own interests. Had we stayed in Seattle, I don’t know what kind of satisfying work I would have found. My job at BU reminded me of how much I love writing, and I produced some articles with which I’m quite pleased (my two last pieces: an article about indie book stores and a profile of author Leslie Epstein). Now I just need to segue that into a full-time writing career, and slowly give up the editing. I guess I’m saying my maternity leave is over and it’s time for me to get back into the swing of things.

Eugene sent me a this link a while ago, but I’m that far behind on my e-mail. Basically, the world has somehow learned of the Krispy Kreme donut groom’s cake we had at our wedding and they are copying the idea. Ours, though, was much better–none of that silly frilly stuff. And of course, ours had Pedro on top. (And if you don’t know who Pedro is–boy, do I envy you!)

I’ve posted pictures of the Doodlebug on the site, yet I have to say the idea of people I don’t know looking at my son’s nekkid butt gives me the willies. Therefore, the page is password protected. If I know you (or know of you) and you’d like to see the pictures, drop me an e-mail.

It’s starting to get to me. The sleepless late nights. The whimpering. The constant pacing to control the tension. The cries, the shouts, the occasional grins and cheers. I’m not sure how much longer I can take it. I keep reminding myself that before I know it that this will be over, and I’ll forget the pain, because you always forget the pain. But, right now, the end of baseball season seems so far away. All the Doodlebug and I can do is hope that the Red Sox beat the Yankees in four games so we can have Adam back–at least until the World Series starts.

The majority of my purchases are made online. I hate shopping. It’s tedious, it’s boring, and to be avoided at all costs. I’ve purchased everything online from the usual–clothes, books, music, movies–to the rather oddball–house numbers, a mailbox, pacifiers. What that means, though, is that I get on some pretty funky mailing lists. Now that I spend many hours on the couch with a baby on my lap, I find myself looking through whatever is close by, which is often the curious catalog. This week, it’s been Posh Tots and Terry’s Village. I’m now a catalog addict. I had no idea the things that I could buy! Shall we go seasonal this year? Buy a snowman rug and toilet seat cover? (Would that clash with the outhouse tissue box?) Or maybe I want a set of crib linens for $1,528? (Note to buyers: babies spit up. And pee. And poop. On everything.) Maybe for those days when I’m bored, I should play a little snowman tic tac toe. Of course, I should be a grateful that Doodlebug is a boy, so I won’t feel the pressure to buy him the fantasy coach bed. Only three in existence and the price–a bargain $39,500, yes that’s $39,500–includes having the craftsmen flown in from England to build it in your house. Boy, these guys really know how to target their mailings, don’t they!

On Monday, Doodlebug saw his first movie, Swimming Pool. Not exactly Rugrats, I know, but the local second-run theater has baby matinees on Mondays: stroller parking in the lobby, the lights not completely dim, and the sound just a tad softer. Of course crying babies and nursing are absolutely allowed. The Loews downtown does an even bigger affair, with entertainment ahead of time and first-run films, but it’s a pain in the butt to get to with no parking, so second run it is for me! Also, the other moms in my mom’s group go for a walk and lunch first and then a bunch go to the movies, so it’s more fun.

Swimming Pool is an incredible film, and I’m still thinking about what the ending means (if you’ve seen it and have ideas, let me know!). It would never occur to me to list Francois Ozon on my list of favorite directors, yet his films stay with me longer than others. Sitcom was remarkable, but See the Sea was absolutely the most disturbing film I have ever seen. I don’t think I could watch it again, although the image of the final scene is burned into my mind. His films are slow paced, and if you’re not prepared for that, I think they could seem boring. Yet, if you know his style, you’re constantly seeking out clues, and the leisurely pace becomes a means of suspense. The cinematography is beautiful. I’m still turning the ending over and over, but I definitely recommend this–and the other Ozon films for that matter.

Everyone knows I love my son. How could I not? The Doodlebug is the absolute cutest, most amazing thing ever. However, today, he came this close (picture thumb and finger practically touching) to being dropped off at the orphanage. Today began day two of the “No, Mom, that’s not what I want, but I’m not going to tell you what it is I do want” screaming. (My best friend is pregnant and I’m afraid to talk to her these days because all I have are stories of exhaustion, yells, and sore eardrums; I don’t want to scare her off. But as she says, it’s too late anyway so she might as well be well prepared.) We just solved that though, because I put him in his bouncy chair and told him, “Okay, go ahead, scream here for five minutes; I need food” (yesterday, I didn’t get breakfast until 3:30 in the afternoon, and we’re all a lot happier when I eat a bit more regularly). And remarkably, he screamed for four minutes and fell asleep. So now I’ve not only gotten to enjoy food and scan the headlines, I’m also making a pot of my favorite almond tea (I stocked up at Whittard’s when I was in London last February) and catching up on the blog. If today’s entries stop abruptly, it will be because the Doodlebug woke up. This afternoon, our exciting plans include a trip to Babies R Us for bigger onesies (he may be short, my the Doodlebug is rapidly gaining weight and any day now, he’ll be busting out of his 0-3 month clothes, even though he is just under 6 weeks) and to Old Navy for smaller jeans (my sister had bought me a huge pair, and happily in the couple of weeks since she’s left, I’m down from enormous to gigantic and need to exchange the jeans for a size down). Oh, did you hear that? Yes, that’s right, just as my tea is ready, the Doodlebug begins to warm up his lungs….

It’s not that I don’t have anything to blog these days, it’s just that I’m unable to blog. I mean physically. Because at all times, there’s a baby attached to me. I thought once I gave birth, I was done carrying the baby 24/7. Turns out I was wrong. The Doodlebug is a crier. Loves to cry. The only thing that stops him from crying is being held. Which means I end up holding him at all times. In fact, right now, I’m sitting on the couch, with the Doodlebug lying across my lap, the computer on a pillow on my knees, and my left hand barely reaching the keyboard from beneath his head. It’s not the easiest going. So I guess I just have to accept that blogging may be a once-a-week activity for me. So a quick rundown on all the things I’ve been thinking about that I haven’t gotten to write about:

• Did everyone see that article in the New York Times Magazine about the four-year-old skateboarder about to go pro? Maybe it’s my new maternal instincts (hey, turns out I do have some!), but I found it horrifying. If the Doodlebug showed a proclivity for an activity at a young age, I’d certainly want to encourage it. But it seems to me detrimental to allow a child to focus so completely on any one thing and to accept corporate sponsorships. I had lots to say about this when I read the article, but dirty diapers have chased those thoughts away. I just want to say, I think it’s a bad, bad thing (see what happens when you only blog once a week? Your verbal skills deteriorate).
  
• I’m not sure if he’ll like me mentioning it, but Adam earned first-year honors last year at HBS. Yeah, Adam!
  
• My Doodlebug is the cutest Doodlebug ever.
  
• I’ve signed up for Nanowrimo again. I don’t have any ideas for what this year’s novel is about, but I have a strong hunch it will be baby related. I’m looking forward to jumpstarting my creative writing.
  
• Speaking of novels, I think I have an idea of how to end the novel I’d been working on. Once the Doodlebug gets on more of a schedule, my goal is to write a page a day. Just a page. That’s doable, right?
  
• The Tweedle Twirp stayed with us for a month after the Doodlebug was born. She was an amazing help, and it’s been rough with her gone. She was fantastic with the DB, and she sang him his favorite song, a TT original, “It’s Hard to Be a Baby.” Adam and I agreed that the best way to get through this was to just pretend that she’s at the grocery store, and she’ll be home just a few minutes after Adam gets home from school. So far, it’s working.
  
• The Doodlebug is officially short and fat. He had his one-month check-up, and he’s in the 5th percentile for length (he’s gone from 19 inches to 20 1/4 inches), but he’s in the 50th percentile for his weight (from 6 lbs, 10 ozs to 9 lbs, 6.9 ozs). He’s definitely his mother’s son!
  
• I knew babies cried. But I never knew they snorted, barked, growled, and squeaked.
  
• We’ve started venturing out again. In fact, we went to the HBS Fall Community party. Funny thing is, I’m the one who pushed to go, that’s how desperate I was to get out of the house. Who would have thought I’d ever want to go to an HBS event?
  
• The new Bachelor starts tonight. And yes, I’m watching. How can you not root for Bob?
  
• I’ve been reading DB Barnyard Dance!. Adam’s been reading him Dante’s Inferno. Which is fine with me. It just guarantees I’ll be the Doodlebug’s favorite parent.

Okay, this position is cutting off all circulation to my left arm. I’m going to have to figure out a new way to juggle the DB and the computer.

The Doodlebug hates baths. I mean hate. Therefore, I hate giving him baths. He lets out these blood-curdling screams that break my heart. So, I think he should go dirty. I mean, he’s only three and a half weeks old; who does he need to impress? But for some reason, Adam thinks he needs to be clean. So he insists on the bath. And of course if my baby is in trouble, I have to be there for him. But I make sure, all the while he’s getting moderately clean (with all that screaming even Adam is willing to cut the bath a bit short), that Doodlebug understands that if it were up to his Mommy he could live happily in his filth all the time but it’s his mean Daddy who’s subjecting him to the watery torture. No wonder Doodlebug likes his mother the best.

Someone recently asked me, “So other than the baby, what have you been up to?” Surprisingly, I was able to keep from punching him.