John Scalzi‘s Redshirts is a clever satire with the lasting power of cotton candy. It’s to be consumed, quickly, then melts away from consciousness. ∞
Time seems to be getting away from me. Good intentions to write vanish beneath the need for sleep, to clean, to try and rest. So here’s a list of firsts.
- First haircut, March 8th.
- First swim, March 15th.
- First eating of solids, a month and half ago.
Video on Eduhacker about how not to present. ∞
We’ve started Michiko on solid foods, sort of. She’s experimenting with eating and having fun. So far, green beans are a favorite.
If you read this post from the other week, you may have a sense that it’s been a stressful time for our family. Two weeks later and Michiko is well, we’ve found wonderful, new childcare, and life is returning to normal. That week however, felt so long. We both took time off to take care of Michiko and monitor her. We worked out some emergency childcare with a friend. Then, fortune turned toward us and a colleague’s former nanny was opening up an in-home daycare that week.
In a flurry of emails, phone calls, and meetings, it all worked out and last week was Michiko’s first week there. She’s doing great. We’re getting used to packing up and dropping her off in the mornings instead of having someone come to our house. But that week, it felt like the days stretched on and on. Tension coiled my shoulders up and each day was exhausting. When I look back, it was only two weeks ago, it seems like that week occurred far in the past. I’m not sure what the basis is for that, but it’s strange. Was it just such a stressful time that one copes by distancing one’s self from it?
Throne of the Crescent Moon, by Saladin Ahmed is a textured fantasy, rich in detail and polished writing, with an ensemble cast. ∞
Pretty sure Cersei Lannister used the cry-it-out method with Joffrey Lannister, while Lysa Tully used attachment parenting with Robert “Sweet Robin” Arryn.
What method did Catelyn Stark use for her children? Ferber?
When a baby yawns it’s cute. Their small pouty mouth opens, cheeks like steamed buns rise up. When the baby is yours, most of her actions are cute. She blows air out her mouth. Lays on her back and shakes her arms and legs. She wiggles her toes. Grabs her toes. And, sucks on her toes. Her expression is amusement mixed with curiosity, as if to ask, whose toes are these?
When your baby gets a CT scan, it is not cute. When there is a bump and a blue bruise on her head, and your health insurance cannot be reached in order to pre-authorize the CT scan, which the doctor says is needed, and which it’s best to be performed at the imaging center, instead of hours spent in the emergency room with a six-month-old, who is still in the process of getting her vaccinations, and so you charge the full amount, and your infant is swaddled, then wrapped in lead, while the technician puts lead covers on you and tells you to keep her head still, and she’s screaming, just screaming so loud, her throat raw, her face red, and the scanner whirs and spins, while the platform on which you’re holding her slides into the spinning device, it’s awful. When you wait to hear the results and worries flood your mind, it’s awful. It’s awful driving home with your partner on the phone with the doctor. It’s awful to worry about whether or not your baby should go to sleep. It becomes better when the news from the doctor is good news, but still, it is only good news along a spectrum. It is good news, because it’s not the bad news. There is still the bump, the color-changing bruise, the worry. There is still the image of your child, your baby screaming, afraid and restrained, unable to speak, while the scanner spins and brings her in. ∞