The Baby Goes Beep, Rebecca O'Connell, illus. Ken Wilson-Max
Ten, Nine, Eight, Molly Bang
More, More, More, Said the Baby, Vera B. Williams
To Market, To Market, Anne Miranda, illus. Janet Stevens.
Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, Bill Martin Jr, illus. Eric Carle
My Very First Mother Goose, ed. Iona Opie, illus. Rosemary Wells
Oct 30, 2009
Oct 27, 2009
Writing Diet Week 1, Day 2
Lunch:
The Inheritance of Exile: Stories from South Philly, Susan Muaddi Darraj
The Inheritance of Exile: Stories from South Philly, Susan Muaddi Darraj
Oct 25, 2009
The Writing Diet
Today, in celebration of my birthday (belated) among other things I took a bath with my beloved magazine, Poets & Writers, and tall glass of cider. As usual, I was inspired by interviews with authors, agents and publishers who all somehow or another came back to the same conclusion that there is painfully little success out there to be had, even by the most brilliant of writers. Believe it or not, this sounds like encouragement to me, a reminder that I am in good company.
So, high on the noble thoughts of those who have gone before, I am trying something new. I am going on a writing diet. Here's what I'm going to do:
one week reading
one week writing
one week nothing
I'm going to try it for six weeks and see what happens. And I'm telling you--my 3-27 readers out there (thank you Google analytics for making sure I know every time nobody reads my blog)--so that you can feel free to scold, cajole, and hound me about following my diet. I have been known to cheat.
Of course, like all good diets, I start tomorrow. Tonight, I binge.
So, high on the noble thoughts of those who have gone before, I am trying something new. I am going on a writing diet. Here's what I'm going to do:
one week reading
one week writing
one week nothing
I'm going to try it for six weeks and see what happens. And I'm telling you--my 3-27 readers out there (thank you Google analytics for making sure I know every time nobody reads my blog)--so that you can feel free to scold, cajole, and hound me about following my diet. I have been known to cheat.
Of course, like all good diets, I start tomorrow. Tonight, I binge.
Oct 20, 2009
The Not To Do List : Survival Tips for the First Year
On the night of our son's first birthday, the husband and I broke open a fancy bottle of wine (translation: more than $7.00). After all, its not just his celebration, it's ours . We made it. We became. We walked without holding on to anything.
So here's my list of survival tips for attachment parents of high needs children trying to make it through twelve months without burnout.
DO NOT:
1. Go on a diet. Chances are, if you're nursing a high need baby on demand you'll nurse more often than you expected and much longer than you planned and you'll need those calories. Plus, you'll probably need the chocolate.
2. Get ahead of yourself. Every time munchkin had some small movement towards independence my husband and I were all like, wow, that was so easy. I bet in another month he'll be sleeping by himself in his own room and we could get a babysitter and go on dates and I could start going back to that writing groups and... and... and then he would nurse eleven times the next night.
3. Compare yourself to people who are nothing like yourself--i.e. people who are sleeping eight hours in a row every night and can therefore easily string together coherent sentences and remember other peoples names.
4. Complain (or admit difficulty) to people who don't support your parenting choices. It will just give them another reason to tell you why what you are doing is really stupid.
Example:
Friend: So how's your baby sleeping? Is he sleeping through the night yet?
You: No, not yet. I'm sooo tired. This morning I actually found my toothbrush in the freezer.
Friend: Yeah, I learned that lesson with my first baby. I let him sleep with me for the first month and it was the biggest mistake. I was much smarter with my second one.
5. Spend too much time inside, alone. Even though your baby's demands are time intensive and you are too sleep deprived to get behind a wheel most days, find ways to take part in civilization even if it is only through a trip to the mailbox. Get outside. Walk. Participare in something normal and humanizing.
6. Submit poems about your birth experience to prestigious magazines.
7. Do anything you do not believe in doing. Listen to your own conscience, your own parenting intuition. Be the parent you want to be.
8. Work during nap times. As Dr. Sears points out, naps are too precious to waste on anything but rest. Watch ridiculous day time tv. Call an old friend. Take a bath with too many bubbles. Cuddle your baby some more. Do not, I repeat, do not pick up that sponge.
9. Spend time with bullies. Even if they are related to you.
10. Miss it. Even though you are tired and you haven't cut your hair in ten months (hypothetically speaking) one day you will look back on this first year as one of the sweetest, richest times of your whole life and you will want to turn to your pimply teenage son and say, "I didn't miss it, not any of it, not even while you were asleep."
So here's my list of survival tips for attachment parents of high needs children trying to make it through twelve months without burnout.
DO NOT:
1. Go on a diet. Chances are, if you're nursing a high need baby on demand you'll nurse more often than you expected and much longer than you planned and you'll need those calories. Plus, you'll probably need the chocolate.
2. Get ahead of yourself. Every time munchkin had some small movement towards independence my husband and I were all like, wow, that was so easy. I bet in another month he'll be sleeping by himself in his own room and we could get a babysitter and go on dates and I could start going back to that writing groups and... and... and then he would nurse eleven times the next night.
3. Compare yourself to people who are nothing like yourself--i.e. people who are sleeping eight hours in a row every night and can therefore easily string together coherent sentences and remember other peoples names.
4. Complain (or admit difficulty) to people who don't support your parenting choices. It will just give them another reason to tell you why what you are doing is really stupid.
Example:
Friend: So how's your baby sleeping? Is he sleeping through the night yet?
You: No, not yet. I'm sooo tired. This morning I actually found my toothbrush in the freezer.
Friend: Yeah, I learned that lesson with my first baby. I let him sleep with me for the first month and it was the biggest mistake. I was much smarter with my second one.
5. Spend too much time inside, alone. Even though your baby's demands are time intensive and you are too sleep deprived to get behind a wheel most days, find ways to take part in civilization even if it is only through a trip to the mailbox. Get outside. Walk. Participare in something normal and humanizing.
6. Submit poems about your birth experience to prestigious magazines.
7. Do anything you do not believe in doing. Listen to your own conscience, your own parenting intuition. Be the parent you want to be.
8. Work during nap times. As Dr. Sears points out, naps are too precious to waste on anything but rest. Watch ridiculous day time tv. Call an old friend. Take a bath with too many bubbles. Cuddle your baby some more. Do not, I repeat, do not pick up that sponge.
9. Spend time with bullies. Even if they are related to you.
10. Miss it. Even though you are tired and you haven't cut your hair in ten months (hypothetically speaking) one day you will look back on this first year as one of the sweetest, richest times of your whole life and you will want to turn to your pimply teenage son and say, "I didn't miss it, not any of it, not even while you were asleep."
Oct 17, 2009
Happy Birthday to our little boy
This is not the kind of life I ever thought I would be leading. I mean, here we are on a Saturday night at 9:30 and what are we doing? We are drinking cold, thick vanilla milkshakes from Bill's Place and reading school district reviews. Why? Because our baby turned one two days ago and squished cupcake icing all over his high chair and tried to blow on a harmonica and threw up cupcake and banana and God knows what else on his new toys and so obviously, naturally, it is time to start thinking about college.
Oct 5, 2009
More because's than why's
Today a friend asked me (in so many words) why I care about this attachment stuff so much. My first thought: I don't know. Why am I putting so much fight into this? Why do I spend hours thinking, talking, writing about this day after day? On the drive home and while reading bedtime stories about bunnies and lakes, my mind kept returning to this question (yes, I'm a woman, I can multi-task). For now, these are my answers. Out of all the things in the world that there are to care about, here's why I'm boxing in this corner:
Because this is my story. And I believe we are all made up of our stories.
Because I'm hoping that I'm not the only one out there with this story.
Because I'm hoping that it might help other mothers and fathers struggling to make up their minds about who they are now that everything is different.
Because it would have given me faith and courage, in the beginning, to read about someone else doing what I believed I should do and wasn't sure I could.
Because some days I still don't think I'm going to make it.
Because I want to remember.
Because sometimes there is no short answer to a question.
Because the question I am constantly answering all day long from everyone I know is why am I doing it this way.
Because this matters.
Because in some tiny and hard to explain way, this is Palestine for me all over again and I won't be ruled out.
Because this is my story. And I believe we are all made up of our stories.
Because I'm hoping that I'm not the only one out there with this story.
Because I'm hoping that it might help other mothers and fathers struggling to make up their minds about who they are now that everything is different.
Because it would have given me faith and courage, in the beginning, to read about someone else doing what I believed I should do and wasn't sure I could.
Because some days I still don't think I'm going to make it.
Because I want to remember.
Because sometimes there is no short answer to a question.
Because the question I am constantly answering all day long from everyone I know is why am I doing it this way.
Because this matters.
Because in some tiny and hard to explain way, this is Palestine for me all over again and I won't be ruled out.
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