Three is the new Two?

Last night Mr. b and I talked about vasectomies. He’s apparently been doing some research about them and is not at all encouraged by what he’s read. He doesn’t want one. And honestly, that’s fine. I don’t mind taking the pill. I’ve been on it for nearly 20 years now. I take iron pills every day anyway so it’s not really any big deal to take two pills at night instead of just one. I told him that if we just keep going like we have been, there’s always a chance of an Oops, though we never had so much as a scare before I was off the pill. But more than that, I warned him that I might want to have another kid at some point in the next 7 or so years.

I’m the oldest of three kids so there’s always going to be something in the back of my head that tells me that’s the “right” number of kids to have. When Ronnie was first born I felt very strongly that I was going to want another one. I’m not sure why but now, not nearly as much. Yet it’s not faded completely so I can’t discount the notion that the nagging could resurface someday. Mr. b was quite appalled by the possibility and just went with the idea that he’ll “say no” and that is that. I don’t know that it would be so simple.

Alongside the experience of being one of three is a more primal, genetic, animal, base desire to propagate the species, ensure the continuation of my line, immortality through my progeny. There’s a collective memory of high infant mortality and the need for more hands to help sustain the subsistence. Is that a real issue? We’re probably not going to actually have an apocalypse in my lifetime, much to Mr. b’s despair. And possibly my time in the field – where I excavated infant remains that were in the trash midden, treated with the respect of being put in a nice jar at least – colors my impression of it more than someone that has only academic knowledge of the changes modern health technology has wrought. I feel quite strongly Kirk would not have survived even a century ago. So all of this adds up to something inside me akin to the Royal saying of “an heir and a spare”.

I don’t know how I would go on if I lost one of my kids. But I especially don’t know how I would go on if I lost both of my kids. So having another one I guess would be insurance of a sick sort. But even understanding my psyche in all of this, do I really want to go through it all again? The pregnancy and the birth and the sleepless nights. I don’t know. But I’m not ready to give up the option.

Almost 11 Months

It felt kind of strange to get on the bus this morning and not be carrying my pump. I’ve become so accustomed to having two things with me in the seat; it felt so roomy without it! So far I’m feeling OK. Not too full or too achy, though obviously a little of each. However, I’m sure I’m going to put Veronica straight to the boob the second I get home and get my coat off. I picked Friday to be my first day without pumping knowing the weekend would be right there in case it sucks. But I really don’t want to have to spend money on more milk storage bags and honestly, I don’t think pumping is worth the trouble anymore.

So now that Ronica is on the homestretch of weaning – whether she knows it or not is a different matter – I’m looking forward to seeing how this affects our sleeping patterns. She continues to be extremely difficult to get to bed at night, requiring multiple tries to get her to stay asleep. She continues to wake up between 2am and 4am and sometimes even earlier. (She often wakes up the second her father gets home from school or band practice or work, like she can sense his presence.) I have noticed that she’s less demanding of food when she wakes up and is more interested in being held. But since I’m so used to sleep nursing, I still just give her a boob so I can lay back down. And she still doesn’t really know how to fuss herself to sleep since we don’t leave her in her crib to cry and disturb her brother. I’m hoping that’ll work itself out as she gets older but it’s definitely something I’m wary of.

I think we’ll probably try to find a free or cheap toddler bed before jumping straight to bunk beds for the two of them. My guess is that once she can climb out of bed herself she’ll end up climbing in with her brother, again just needing the comfort of someone next to her in the middle of the night.

Ronnie is still not quite walking. Rather, she can walk and has taken a few steps, but she chooses not to. She is so incredibly fast at crawling that it would be inconvenient to walk instead. She does let go and free stand more and more often so I’m sure she’ll start doing more than just moving between the couch and ottoman before long. She’s learning to get down from the couch feet first and that’s a skill she’ll need for getting out of her bed and invading her brother’s.

Lichenin

Good science fiction should be thought provoking. You should be presented with ideas that make you really consider the way the world around you works currently. Allegory isn’t necessary but is often useful to use as a prism, to focus on something you might not have noticed around you. Too often today we think science fiction means robots and space and aliens and rockets. Instead, I hold to the old Scientific Romance definition, where you expound and expand upon a technological breakthrough and explore what that would mean for society.

Trouble with Lichen by John Wyndham was one of the most thought provoking books I’ve read in a long time. It took a long, hard look at the ramifications of extreme longevity. Robert A. Heinlein touched on some of those ideas in his Lazarus Long books but Lazarus is primarily an action figure so the same depths are not achieved. I enjoyed the thought experiment of how people really would react when offered the chance to double or treble their lifespan.

There was a feminist aspect to the book, too, which I found fascinating because of several inherent disparities. First of all, it was published in 1960. So even though the female protagonist was rather radical and wanted women to break free of their domestic routines if only they had enough time to live up to their potentials, it was all cast with the pall of the woman being a mere appendage to a man, whether her father or her husband. Like watching original series Star Trek now and being appalled at the sexism while trying to remember that it was actually ground breaking at the time. Another disparity was the fact that the author is a man. I often found myself wondering if he was poking fun or being serious about all the second-gen suffragetting about the place. I have to believe that he thought he was serious. However, I was reminded that in his The Day of the Triffids, which I read six years ago, the independent female character by the end was just happy to have a man. Maybe the fact that it was published almost a decade earlier made the difference? Or maybe Wyndam truly believes that even if a woman is smart and strong she still is “just” a woman. But I’m not offended by that possibility and instead relished the chance to really examine the current state of my gender in society at large.

The narrative started a little slowly but it continued to build and the last forty or fifty pages were definitely exciting. The climax had me tearing up with hope for humanity and righteous pride in womankind. And the twist in the dénouement I didn’t see coming until it was right on top of me.

Back Pack & Baby Toy

I had a burst of creative energy a few weekends ago and put it to good use. Mr. b had a pair of old khakis with the knees torn out that I hemmed into shorts for him. But what to do with the legs? I am too much of a fabric hoarder to just toss them into the rag pile. Instead, I made Kirk a back pack! I had a lot of fun thinking it through. Putting in a circular bottom seemed obvious but coming up with the fold-over button front took me a while.



I think I set the straps a bit too wide but Kirk doesn't seem to mind and I suppose he'll grow into them this way.





There was still a bit of fabric left after that so I decided to make Bundle a chew toy. I deliberated for a while on its shape and size and finally decided to go with a triangular block because it seemed like the easiest for her to grab onto. I added the buttons for her to pick at, hold onto, and crew on. It's "educational" because I did 1, 2, 3 on each side! She loves it and it's always covered with slobber now. Especially on the 2 side. Not sure if it's the red, the style of buttons, or coincedence...

Drama

A son is a son till he takes him a wife, a daughter is a daughter all of her life.
~Irish Saying

I find myself thinking of this old adage whenever I deal with my brother. He has become the embodiment of the Old Testament directive to “cleave unto” your wife, to the exclusion of your birth family. And when I remember how close we used to be, and how unbearably awful things are now, it makes me worry about what the future may hold for Kirk. I don’t want to loose him just because he’s married.

It’s strange because I used to worry about ending up having the same kind of relationship Mr. b has with his mother. They love each other and get along with each other and get drunk with each other and are close emotionally, if not geographically. But they also have a time limit and with snip and snipe at each other if the visit is too long. Kirk and I definitely fit that pattern. We can already push each other’s buttons and already need to take breaks from each other and already just get annoyed with each other. But we also aren’t completely dismissive of each other’s thoughts and feelings.

Maybe it’s my lifelong fight against conformity that’s making the latest round of bullshit with my brother hurt so much? I truly don’t know when he became so judgmental. It’s frustrating to see someone’s previously open mind close so completely. I don’t think Kirk is capable of that kind of lack of empathy but I wouldn’t have guessed it of my brother either.

Here’s the thing. I think my kids are happy and well adjusted and I take joy in the little things in life. I let the annoyances roll off me more often than not because I’m too lazy to waste energy on them. I live in the present because I can’t change the past. I like to have fun. I used to have, hooboy, a different kind of fun before kids but that was before kids. Yet I’m not going to just close the book on fun simply because of being a parent. I make sure my children are healthy and safe and I include them in as many activities as I can because I want them to know what’s out there and I don’t want to shelter them unnecessarily. I do not believe that is irresponsible. I do not believe that makes me a bad parent. I do not believe that my doing things differently from how someone else might is cause for disgust and revulsion. And I do not want to be around someone that I know is going to watch and analyze and judge my every move.

Two Transitions

When I got home from work last Friday I was thinking that it might have been my last day of pumping at work. Doing it just once a day has really reduced my milk supply nicely and I can definitely feel that I’m on the right track. But then over the weekend I started doing math and realized I will be going eleven to twelve hours between feedings if I skip pumping at work. I think it’ll be fine but I’m definitely putting it off a little longer. I only have ten or so bags left from the last milk storage purchase so that’ll be my cut-off.

I think it’s obvious that the real trick to finalizing weaning will be suckling for comfort – and I mean for both Ronnie and me! She doesn’t actually need the boobie calories anymore, especially as we’re introducing whole milk into her formula bottles. But it’s still great bonding time for us and I still like snuggling with her when she comes into bed with me at whatever point at night.

In the meantime, Mr. b and I are putting out collective foot down on Kirk regarding sippy cups at bedtime and wearing overnight diapers. Mr. b was over 5 years old before he was having constant, regular dry nights so it’s not surprising to me that we’ve been keeping Kirk in overnights. But he’s been getting lazy with them. Over the last month or so, he’s woken up maybe three or four mornings a week with a poopie diaper. That’s ridiculous. So he’s cut off. He has to make sure he’s pooped at least once that day or else I make him sit on the pot before tucking him in for the night.

Since he’s wearing underpants in bed I’m also not allowing him to bring his sippy to bed with him anymore. It’s irked me for quite some time but Mr. b didn’t care and it just didn’t seem worth the fight. I would only fill the cup with maybe an inch of beverage so it’s not like he was getting a big huge drink. But now even that it over. I’m hoping a nice side effect will be lessening Kirk’s reliance on the damn sippies in the first place! It’s not like he’s going to be allowed to have them in kindergarten…

Vision Quest

Kirk has his appointment with the eye specialist on Wednesday morning. His regular ophthalmologist suggested we see this guy for a second opinion on if the glasses are fixing his strabismus or if he’ll need patching or surgery or something else. Being that it’s the University, it’s a teaching hospital and clinic and the first doctor we saw was a resident. She was really good with Kirk, running through all the various tests, but definitely seemed flustered with some of his refusal to cooperate. She brought another woman in who I thought must have been an instructor but it wasn’t clear. This second woman was fabulous. She took no guff from Kirk but was also cheerful, brusque but friendly. She whipped through the final couple of exams in no time. They did some really interesting stereoscopic tests that I assumed were for eye alignment.

It’s amazing how much I know about eye exams now considering I’ve only ever had one in my lifetime – outside of school checks – and have never needed corrective lenses. There’s so much more than just how far you can see. Depth and clarity and binocularity and it’s really a truly amazing discipline.

And of course I knew that there was no way Kirk was going to be able to avoid getting his eyes dilated. He hates that. It’s not just the eye drops themselves, though he really despises that process as well. He truly can’t stand the effect of having his pupils opened so wide. He complained about the exam lights blinding him even! Not that I blame him. It’s very trippy. He was extremely concerned, knowing we were going to the eye doctor, and had been freaking out about getting shots and “magic eye drops”. I assured him he would not be getting shots but kept my mouth shut on the other. I counseled him to let the doctor know right away that he didn’t want those things and sure enough, when they walked in he announced his preferences. Alas, he did not avoid getting eye drops.

There is, however, a lot more stuff to do when you’re on campus and have to kill time waiting for the drops to take effect.

Then we finally saw the doctor himself. He was amazing. I really, really liked him. He was great with Kirk and explained everything to us very clearly. Apparently the middle woman that was so fabulously nonsense-free is an orthoptist. They specialize in vision alignment. The U graduates one per year and there are only ten programs in the country. The doctor has three on staff. So it really makes sense for us to go there. The doctor explained that while to us it looks like the glasses are correcting his cross, it’s actually still 6 or 7 degrees off. It has to be a larger degree to be noticed by the naked eye and they consider it parallel when it’s down to about 3 degrees. So he’s getting there! Since the glasses do seem to be making a difference, he wanted to try a new prescription for Kirk. In two months then he’ll check to see if that’s helping enough.

Basically there are three options: the glasses will correct it completely, the glasses won’t correct it at all, the glasses will correct it partially. Our next steps will depend on which of those three things happens. I feel positive that we’re not being pushed towards surgery and that if it ends up being necessary, it will be because all other options were explored fully. In the meantime, I guess we’ll have to go to the glasses store this weekend…