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Recommended Reading

  • J.R.R. Tolkien: The Lord of the Rings

    J.R.R. Tolkien: The Lord of the Rings
    It feels silly to recommend the book from which my parents got my name - I'm sort of bound to like it, right? - but if you haven't read this, you have absolutely missed out. Tolkien is simply inimitable, and Middle Earth is his masterpiece. Even disregarding the name thing, I'd be a different person without this book. (*****)

  • C.S. Lewis: The Space Trilogy

    C.S. Lewis: The Space Trilogy
    I don't generally enjoy science fiction or fantasy, but I've read this trilogy (consisting of Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength) several times, and I get more out of it every time. Lewis is a master writer and a master thinker, and he does great work here. This is the kind of literature that changes you. (*****)

  • Diane Mott Davidson: Catering to Nobody

    Diane Mott Davidson: Catering to Nobody
    The first of Davidson's eleven-book series of mysteries featuring caterer/detective Goldy Schulz. Not great literature, but thoroughly enjoyable - and filled with mouth-watering descriptions of delectable foodstuffs. Worth reading if you're a mystery buff, VERY worth reading if you also like to eat. (****)

  • Dave Barry: Dave Barry's Greatest Hits

    Dave Barry: Dave Barry's Greatest Hits
    Dave Barry can always, always make me laugh. Which is probably why I own so many of his books, and reread them more often than I'd like to admit. Plus, you know, he really can write. (****)

  • Dorothy L. Sayers: Murder Must Advertise

    Dorothy L. Sayers: Murder Must Advertise
    I recently reread all of the Peter Wimseys (out of order, as is the prerogative of someone to whom they are old friends) and finished up with this one. Sayers' plotting is pure genius and her writing is impeccable. If you like mysteries and you haven't read these, do it pronto! (*****)

Listening to:

  • Come Lift Up Your Sorrows
    Michael Card: The Hidden Face of God
    "There in your wilderness, He's waiting for you. Come worship him with your wounds, 'cause He's wounded too."

Just Because

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Friday, November 30, 2007

Resemblative

Here's something funny that happens: everyone who is related to Bryan or knew him as a baby thinks Camilla looks exactly like him.  Everyone who is related to me or knew me as a baby thinks Camilla looks exactly like me.

Has this happened to anyone else?  Your husband's mom says, "Oh, she looks like her daddy!" and your mom says, "She reminds me so much of you!"

When I look at Bryan and Milla together I can definitely see the resemblance.  Not so much when I hold her up in the mirror next to me, but I think it's hard to see one's own features critically.  Heck, my face somehow changed from an eight-year-old face to a twenty-five-year-old face and I didn't notice a difference from day to day, so I am not the go-to expert on what my own face looks like or whether Camilla's resembles it.

However, check this out:

Dad_and_me_summer_1983
me with my dad, ~12 months old

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me, ~16 months old

Crying_over_branwen_spring_1984
me, ~18 months old

Yo.  THAT resemblance I can see.

(I made it!  Thirty days of posting daily!  I'll have a follow-up post plus kudos for all the rock-star daily commenters next week.)

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Meme Time

Back near the beginning of this everlasting month, Lisa (who is a new mom!  Go congratulate her!) tagged me for a meme, and it is going to suffice for my second-to-last post of Nablop.  Thank heavens.

Rules: Once tagged, you're supposed to link to the person who tagged you. Then, post the rules before your list and list 8 random things about yourself. At the end of the post, tag and link to 8 other people and then leave them a comment telling them they've been tagged.

1.  I proofread the above rules before posting them, and corrected one grammatical error and one typo.  You knew I was neurotic about the written word, but did you know I was that neurotic?

2.  The Birth Order Book says that oldest children tend to be rigid rule-followers, but I am an exception to that.  I think this is because my mother is very, very much a rule-follower, and I'm sort of... in rebellion against her?  Can it be considered rebelling against your parents if you're twenty-five years old?  My mother is always very concerned with doing things the "right" way so that you won't get in trouble with "them" (whoever "they" are), and although I do hate being yelled at, I often do things like exit where a parking lot is clearly marked "entrance only."  My mother would NEVER do that. 

(I love you, Mom!)

3.  I have a nearly-photographic memory.  Back in my marching-band (dork) years, I could memorize my music in a couple of days (it took some people weeks) just by spending a while looking at the pages and committing them to memory, then reading the notes off the pages that were conveniently stored in my head.  Having a photographic memory served me very well in school.

4.  I used to be a relatively picky eater, but now I will eat most things you put in front of me.  However, here are three things I cannot imagine I'll ever want to eat: yogurt, bleu cheese, and anise-flavored anything.  Here are three things I cannot imagine I'll ever not want to eat: bacon, apple pie, and Better Made Red Hot Barbecue potato chips.

5.  I am very particular about the sort of lights I like on my Christmas tree: C7s with opaque bulbs.  When we went to buy them we could only find strings of C7s with clear bulbs.  There wasn't time to order them online and have them for our tree that year, so we bought the clear strings and a bunch of opaque replacement bulbs and I switched out every single bulb on four strings.  (Yes, I made a pattern.)  I am nutty.

6.  I can't do cursive handwriting.  All my elementary school teachers said that we wouldn't be able to function successfully as adults without it, but sometime in high school I just started using a scripty print instead and I haven't been able to write cursive since.  I have to say, the teachers lied.  A lack of cursive-skill has not cramped my style at all, and I've known plenty of very successful people who wrote, basically, chicken-scratch.  Perhaps what the teachers meant is that you can't function successfully *as an elementary school teacher* without being able to write cursive.  That I would believe.

7.  I get motion sick very easily.  The first time I ever went sailing, with my oh-so-dreamy boyfriend on his dad's sailboat, I threw up over the side of the boat.  It's a testament to the virtue of said boyfriend that he held my hair back, didn't show the tiniest bit of revulsion, and - three years later - married me.

8.  I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue.

Just to show what a rule-breaker I am, I'm not tagging eight people.  Instead, why don't all of you leave at least one random fact about yourselves in the comments?  That should be fun.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Geeks on a Gloomy Afternoon

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Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Cry It Not

As you might have guessed from the title, this post is about a topic guaranteed to raise hackles and bring out the profanity and the hurt feelings in every comments section it touches.

Yes, that's right: college football.

Ba-dum-ching.

In all seriousness, I'm going to attempt to keep the tone of this discussion as light as possible, but I simply cannot pass up the chance to talk about it, especially after a conversation I had this past weekend.

Before I get started, I want Maggie to know that this post has been in the works for a while and that its timing has absolutely nothing to do with her.  And also, Maggie: it's NOT your fault.

This post also comes with a whopper of a disclaimer.

DISCLAIMER:  I am not judging any person or persons who have used the cry-it-out method of sleep training with their children.  I have SO been there with the sleep desperation - err, deprivation - and I can completely understand what would drive someone to try anything to get their kid to sleep.  I've also read enough of the sleep training books to know that the authors make cry-it-out sound like a very reasonable option, and I can understand how someone could become convinced that the cry-it-out proponents were talking good sense.  I don't believe that letting your kid cry-it-out will cause him to grow up to be a serial killer.  I do not think you are a bad parent if you've done it.

That bears repeating.  If you've done cry-it-out, please do not take this post as a condemnation of you.  It is nothing of the sort.

I am not implying in any way that some people are worse parents because they use cry-it-out, or that some other people are better parents because they do not.  (In fact, fair warning: any comments to that effect will be deleted.)  I am writing this post to discuss what I consider to be some basic philosophical problems with the cry-it-out ideology.  I consider parents - sleep-deprived and desperate as they sometimes are - to be the victims, not the perpetrators, of this ideology, which is often thrust upon them on many sides by people who think it is the best and/or only way to get children to sleep well.  If a sleep-book-writing pro-cry-it-out "expert" or an interfering pro-cry-it-out grandparent is reading this, he or she is free to take it personally.  The rest of you, please don't.

I also want to mention that when I say "cry-it-out," I'm not referring to what I think of as "fuss-it-out," where a child who is not noticeably frightened by his parents' absence appears to benefit from a small amount of wailing to wind himself down to sleep.  I'm also not referring to any kind of crying that occurs while the parents are with the child - we've done some of that ourselves, since our baby appears to release tension by crying and often needs to yell a little bit before she crashes in our arms.  I'm specifically referring to what I believe is known as "extinction cry-it-out" wherein a child is left to cry by himself for extended periods of time, during which his panic increases and he is clearly scared by the absence of his parents.  This is what I'll be referring to when I use the acronym CIO.

All right, let's get started.

Scenario A:  Let's say there's a six-year-old who has a crippling fear of spiders.  Every time he sees a spider he collapses in hysteria on the floor, screaming for his parents to make the spider go away.  Obviously, this is a problem, especially when it happens in the aisle at the grocery store.  So his parents develop a tactic to deal with this behavior, and help him learn to act normally when he sees a spider.  When he sees one and he goes into hysterics, they put him in a room full of spiders and leave him there until he calms himself.  This takes hours the first time, but by the third or fourth time he calms himself pretty quickly in the spider-filled room.  From then on he never expresses a fear of spiders, and they don't hear a peep out of him when he sees one.  Voila!  They've cured his fear, and made life easier for themselves.  Parents-of-the-Year Award for them.

Wait.  What?

Scenario B:  Let's say there's a one-year-old who has a crippling fear of being left alone at night.  Every time she's left in a room by herself she becomes hysterical, screaming for her parents to come to her.  Obviously, this is a problem, especially when it happens multiple times in the middle of the night.  So her parents develop a tactic to deal with this behavior, and help her learn to act normally when left alone.  When they put her in her crib and she goes into hysterics, they leave her in the room alone until she calms herself by falling asleep.  This takes hours the first time, but by the third or fourth time she calms herself pretty quickly in the room alone.  From then on she never expresses a fear of being left alone at night, and they don't hear a peep out of her when they put her in her crib and leave the room.  Voila!  They've cured her fear, and made life easier for themselves.  Parents-of-the-Year Award for them.

Scenario A is clearly psychological abuse.  Scenario B is acted out regularly in the homes of well-meaning, non-abusive parents all over the country.  Why is this, when they're essentially the same tactic?

I don't think that people who do CIO do it because they believe ruthlessly exposing their child to the thing she fears is the best way to get her to stop fearing it.  But the parents don't see what they're doing as exposing the child to fear; they've been convinced that the child is not crying out of fear, but for some other reason, sheer cussedness and/or manipulation of his parents being the most commonly cited.

This is what I consider to be the main problem behind the CIO ideology: it discriminates against the non-verbal.  A baby can't explain that she is scared of her parents leaving her, so others get to decide what she's really expressing with all that crying. 

Now, I realize that it is logically possible that the baby is manipulating her parents rather than expressing fear when she cries.  But based on my own personal experience, I've never been able to believe this.

I can remember being scared at night.  I was prone to becoming obsessed with various scary thoughts - wolves and lions when I was younger, and when I was older a fear of being kidnapped - and on numerous occasions I would call down the stairs to my parents and they would help me deal with the fear so that I could finally go to sleep.  Also, until I was eight or nine years old, I would routinely wake up in the middle of the night and feel alone and scared so that I'd go get in bed with my parents.  My parents were great about it: they would escort me back to my own bed after five or ten minutes, but they always made sure that I knew they loved me and that there was nothing to be afraid of. 

I was in elementary school at the time, not even close to being a baby.  I could understand that my parents were in the house and that they loved me even when they were not in the room, and yet I still occasionally needed their presence to help me go to sleep in the evening and to go back to sleep in the middle of the night.  I was not manipulating them in any way.  I was not refusing to go to sleep on my own because I wanted to give them a hard time.  I was simply scared, and young enough that I was not equipped to deal with it on my own.

This is why I do not buy the idea that a one-year-old who is crying in the night is manipulating her parents.  This is why my gut tells me that when she is crying alone in a room, she is scared.  This is why I have such a big problem with the idea that the proper solution to a baby or toddler's continuous requests for the presence of her parents is to remove that presence so that she learns it is fruitless to ask for it.  Because I think about my own five- or seven-year-old self, and how badly it would have affected me if my parents had refused to give me the comfort I needed, and I can only imagine that it would hurt a little one much, much more.

I do understand that all babies are different.  My baby becomes almost immediately hysterical with fear when we leave her sight, but not all babies do the same thing.  I believe that the parents are the ones who are equipped to know whether their baby is crying out of fear or is just ticked off, and that they are the ones who should decide how to deal with that crying.  What I have a problem with is the imperative implicit in the CIO ideology: the idea that in order to achieve the goal of getting the baby to sleep, a parent should ignore his or her own instincts about what the child is expressing, as well as his or her own instinctive desire to comfort the child.  I can't count the number of times I've heard or read, "We did CIO, and it felt so wrong and I hated it, but it worked."

Yes, parenthood often involves doing things you don't want to do.  I've held my daughter through four sets of immunizations, and hated every minute of that.  But the payoff of the health benefits far outweighs the pain she underwent, which was fleeting and merely physical.  Does the payoff of a child who sleeps the way the experts say he or she "should" outweigh the prolonged emotional trauma the child may undergo in the process?  Especially when that trauma may conceivably have effects that last a lifetime?

Recently I had a very illuminating conversation with a guy I know.  The person wanted me to know how impressed he was that despite Camilla being so high-needs, Bryan and I had committed to never letting her be scared in any way by our absence.  I have to admit I was a little surprised that this particular person had even noticed, but after a few minutes of talking I realized why he felt so strongly about it.  He himself was left to cry it out as a baby, and while not blaming he parents - "there were circumstances," he says - it's clear that he carries the effects of that experience to this day, with a strong fear of abandonment, among other things.

My parents never left me to cry it out so I can only vaguely imagine, but this person described it succinctly.  As a baby, you need your parents.  When they don't come when you cry, it's "like the bottom falls out of your world."  I could tell as he was saying it that he could remember it.  Not consciously, of course, but still.  He remembers. 

I know that the CIO people say that studies show that CIO has no ill-effects on children.  I can't speak to the studies, but it seems to me that if there are people out there who still carry the scars of being left to cry alone decades earlier, then "no ill-effects" cannot be absolutely true.

There are so many other issues in play that would be worth discussing here.  Whether expecting children to soothe themselves to sleep and sleep through the night at x age is reasonable.  Why children sleeping in rooms apart from their parents is the norm in our society, even though it hasn't been in most times and places throughout human history.  Mitigating factors such as parental depression/psychosis exacerbated by sleep deprivation.  Signals that babies do give in re: whether they're crying because they're scared.  The overall trend of "expert"-driven parenting.  I could go on and on.

But I've already written 2000+ words here on this topic and I feel like I've just scratched the surface, so if I don't want to be writing for a week this seems as good a place as any to stop.

*steps back, opens giant can of worms*

I would be very interested in a civil discussion in the comments section, if anyone has thoughts to share.  Remember my earlier warning about not judging any particular parent.  We are just talking about ideas here.  If I feel a comment is borderline, I will delete it, so be very thoughtful and cautious in your comments.

*takes deep breath*

*hits "publish"*

Monday, November 26, 2007

In Action, Baby

This one speaks for itself.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz

I really wanted to do a real post every day this month, with no cop-out "I'm too busy/tired" posts, because I am stubborn like that and would have been proud to say I'd done it. 

Oh well.  I guess I can consider this post another step toward the goal of perfect humility.  I'm not busy and I'm only a little tired, but the problem is that I have no inspiration.  Plenty of topics, but not one that makes me want to find the energy to be witty or sincere or pensive.  So instead you get this, the first ten random things that pop into my head.  And I make no promises about the ability of these things to interest you.  My head is a pretty mundane place most of the time.

1.  I now have a walking child.  This is amazing considering I can remember a time when I thought there was a chance we'd die of exhaustion before the baby reached two months old.  Milla's toddling abilities are still spotty but she's definitely got them, and there will never in the future be a time BEFORE she learned to walk.  Mind-blowing.

2.  I like to steal my husband's socks to wear.  I'm wearing a pair of his socks right now, in fact.

3.  I got highlights in my hair last week.  First time ever.  I like them a lot.  They're very subtle, which is what I wanted.

4.  In tangential news, I've finally found a new stylist I'm going to stick with, the one I used to like having moved away more than two years ago.  She's great and she's also hilarious as all get out.  Big sigh of relief - my follicles will thank me.

5.  If babies are biologically intended to eat meat, why don't they have canines?  Surely our prehistoric ancestors didn't have food processors with which to puree the flesh of hunted animals?

6.  It's a cliche that women always get great gifts for the men in their lives, while men are out at 5:30 on Christmas Eve buying the last Dustbuster on the shelf at WalMart because they haven't been able to think of anything else.  Why is my life the exact opposite of this?  Bryan blows me away year after year with amazing presents (the one I'm typing on right now being a prime example), and every year I'm all, "Gee, do you think he'd like another sweater?"

7.  In tangential news, I have the best husband ever.  Don't think I'm not grateful.

8.  I'm hungry.  Perhaps this is because we had popcorn for dinner.  How many calories in popcorn?  Probably not enough to tide me over until tomorrow.

9.  My primary love language is words.  No surprise there, huh?

10.  Some day... I'm having my eyes lasered.  (Name that movie, siblings of mine.)

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Better Stuff Elsewhere

So far I've been having fun with Nablop, but I have to admit I'm getting a little tired of the sound of my own voice, or the view of my own words, or whatever you want to call it.  So today I'm going to write about some things I've been enjoying in other parts of the blogworld lately, so that in case you didn't know about them, you can enjoy them too!  If you're already clued in to all these things, I apologize in advance.

Lindsay is possibly the sweetest, kindest person in the entire world.  Well, she may not be sweeter than you, but she's sure as heck sweeter than me.  She's been through a lot of awful stuff in her twenty-one years of life, and yet she's neither hardened nor cynical, and in fact just radiates sweetness and light.  You should be reading her.  It will soothe your soul.  And if soul-soothing doesn't do it for you (what?  Are you crazy?) then maybe funny-bone-tickling will.  This entry makes me laugh every time I think about it.  Also, today is Lindsay's birthday, so hop over there and wish her a happy one while you still have the chance!

Blog Nerd may or may not be distantly related in some way to a blogger we knew and loved who has retired her personal blog.  I couldn't give you a definitive answer on that.  But what I can say is that I'm loving the nerd blog, and I think you will love it too.  Blog Nerd discusses any number of topics, and not all of them are my personal interests, but she is intelligent and witty enough to make even an insanely long discussion of nutrition and weight loss both engaging and hilarious.  Plus, Blog Nerd embraces her inner nerd and celebrates nerdiness.  As a major nerd myself, I can get on board with that.  (Fair warning: her site has a music player that loads automatically, so mute your computer if you're in a sound-sensitive environment.)

I mentioned that my Mom is doing NaBloPoMo, but those of you who haven't surfed over there might not know that she's writing a series of posts about my siblings, a "mom's-eye view" as she calls it.  I'm finding it fascinating.  I am kind of bummed that she skipped me, figuring that people who wanted to know about me could just read my blog (oldest children ALWAYS get the short shrift!  Have I ever told you about how I wasn't allowed to get my ears pierced until I was thirteen?  I was practically in high school already).  But I've registered my complaint with her and she's promised to circle back and talk about me at the end.  And in the meantime, I'm really enjoying reading her stories about my siblings, who are pretty much the greatest siblings ever to have walked the earth.  I'm sure reading about them will enrich your life too.

The ex-JenEx, who is even more smart and charming in person than she is on the Internet, has a new-ish blog that is plenty o-fun, with a good helping of Jen's intelligent and straight-shooting commentary thrown in.  This post had me both snorting and nodding my head so vehemently my eyeballs nearly ended up on my keyboard.  And the picture in it inspired Jen to make an entire set of LOLkids, which is one of the funniest things I've seen in I don't know how long.  Check it out.

Now it's your turn: tell me what you're enjoying on teh Internets these days!

Friday, November 23, 2007

Giving Thanks #2: Not as Much Screaming

I'm thankful this year is that Milla is no longer an infant.  The sad reality is that I did not enjoy the holidays last year.  Thanksgiving followed by Advent followed by Christmas is my favorite time of year, but last year I barely survived it.  I vividly remember the evening before Thanksgiving, a year ago yesterday.  Camilla screamed from 10:00pm to 1:00am.  We tried our entire bag of tricks and could not calm her.  It was sheer hell.  A month later on Christmas Eve, which is supposed to be a magical night, I was bouncing and pacing at midnight.  The baby finally went to sleep at 1:00am.  A sleep-deprived Christmas Day was not particularly magical either.

It's hard to enjoy much of anything when you have a ticking time-bomb of a fussy baby, who might start crying at any minute and, if your luck is bad, take hours to calm down.  Especially when you and your husband are the only people who can do the calming dance exactly as the baby likes it, meaning that the presence of generous relatives who want to assist is not nearly as helpful as it should be.  (Although the relatives are good to distract you from the screaming.)

But this year!  This year our daughter is a thirteen-month-old chatterbox almost-toddler who thinks her relatives are the best thing since sliced bread.  It brings me real joy to watch Camilla play with my parents and my siblings, and she clearly loves the busy atmosphere of our holiday celebrations.  She thrives with lots of people around, especially when they're showering attention on her.

Not to mention, of course, the fact that all the extra babysitters make life much more relaxing for Bryan and me.  Relatives are like a bunch of parents' helpers: they whisk the baby off and play with her, and they don't get tired of five hundred successive games of peek-a-boo, and the baby is delighted and her parents get to sit and have a drink and feel like we're on vacation.

Which reminds me, we're on vacation.  I think a leftover piece of pie might be calling my name...

Thursday, November 22, 2007

A Wishbone Funny-Bone Day

In honor of the day of the be-wishboned bird, here's something that tickled my funny bone this week:

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Happy Givethanksing!  Try not to eat too much turkey.  You have to save room for pie, you know.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Giving Thanks #1: My Job

In honor of Thanksgiving, I decided it would be neat to do a series of posts on things for which I'm thankful.  I'm not sure how many I'll do.  You'll just have to be in suspense.  We could use a little more suspense around here.

I don't talk about it much, but one of the things for which I'm thankful every day is that I get to be a stay-at-home-mom for Camilla. 

There are a lot of different ways that couples deal with the dual challenges of providing household income and caring for their children.  Both parents work out of the home, or one or both work at home, or one works and the other cares full-time for the kids.  (I guess there are probably also families with two stay-at-home parents, but those are the independently wealthy families and we don't need to worry about them.)

One thing I've noticed is that many people, and especially women, seem at least somewhat unhappy with their family's solution.  They work outside the home but they've had to sacrifice time with their children, or they stay home with their children and love it but they've had to sacrifice extra income and pinch to make ends meet, or they stay home with their children because they think it's a good thing but they've had to sacrifice a job which they really liked.

I won't go into much detail about how we got here - except to say that we always assumed I'd stay home with our child(ren), and planned ahead accordingly - but I will say that I feel incredibly blessed that our current solution to the income/childcare challenge is meeting our needs nearly perfectly.  (I say "nearly" because our perfect ideal would be the independently-wealthy two-stay-at-home-parents solution, but that's not happening any time soon.)  Bryan likes to go to work and I like to stay home with our daughter, and each of us feels that we've got the better end of the deal. 

He says he'd go crazy doing what I do.  The best full-time job I've ever had was nothing more than a paycheck to me, so I don't feel like I'm missing anything.  And there's never been anything that I did day-in and day-out that I was as good at, and that made me as happy, as this full-time motherhood thing. 

I love that every morning I get to wake up to meet my daughter's little blue eyes, and that every day I get to be with her, and that every night I get to go to bed secure in the knowledge that we'll be together the next day, too.  I know that if our circumstances were different this might not be possible.  I'm grateful that it is.