six things you maybe didn't know

Like 10 years ago Wandering Nana tagged me to divulge six of my quirks. I know I'm quirky (aren't we all?), but I had a hard time coming up with the list! I guess it's all so normal to me.

To put a twist on things, I'll give you three of my current and interesting quirks, and three quirks that sadly I've given up, either by time, because of my husband, or who knows.

Current quirks:

1. I have to know what time it is if I wake up in the middle of the night. Whenever we go camping, I need a watch right by my head in the event I wake up. When my dearest alarm clock (I had had since I was 12) finally went kaput this year, Shane was nice enough to let me put his alarm clock on my night stand because I just couldn't handle it. Then I finally got a new one. I do miss that old alarm clock, though.
   


2. I love things that match and matching sets. In fact, I am 100% more likely to buy something in the store if it comes in a set or you get three of them or whatever. For example, I'd never buy just one baby onesie. But, if it came with say, a pair of pants and a bib (for a reasonable extension of the price, or the same low price!), I'd totally buy it. Another example: my new obsession is earring and necklace jewelry sets. In fact, I lost an earring to a set I bought a couple years ago, so I went out and bought new earrings to match the necklace so I could have a complete set again. Basically, if it's a pair of pants with a free belt, a calendar with free stickers, a Listerine with a free travel-sized bottle, etc., I'm totally buying it!
   


3. Lastly, I'm obsessed with reading the newspaper. All of the newspaper. If I miss a day, it sits around the house (in a nice little pile), until I read it. I didn't used to read the Sports section, but I've even started reading it, too. I don't ready every word, mind you, but I skim the headlines and really I feel entertained and enlightened. And for those of you paying attention at home, I called to cancel the newspaper (I was mad about their increasing prices and my decreasing free time), and they gave me a heck of a deal and said my price would be forever, "immune to price increases." So I renewed.

Some quirks I used to have that I don't really have anymore:

1. I used to work in a grocery store and one of our big things was to organize the dollar bills nicely, meaning, all the presidents' heads faced the same direction. For years afterwards I made sure all my presidents' heads were facing the right direction in my personal currency. For purposes of this blog I pulled out all the moolah in my wallet, and sadly, my presidents' heads were in all sorts of directions. When I lost my gumption for dollar bill organization, I'll never know.
   


2. I used to have to sleep with socks on. If I tried to go to sleep without socks, I'd wake up in the middle of the night and would freak out and would not be able to get back to sleep without putting on socks. Even in the dead heat of summer, I had to have socks. But alas, somewhere along the lines that quirk died as well. I now can go either way.
   


3. Lastly, and this one is courtesy my parents, I used to sit and watch all of the credits at movie theaters. I think my parents think that if you're at the movies, you might as well enjoy yourself and take your time and heck, get your money's worth. You never know what kind of funny things might happen during the credits (think Pixar's Finding Nemo or Bug's Life), or interesting things might happen at the end of the credits (think X-Men 3). When you leave a theater as soon as the screen goes black, you miss that stuff. I think Shane broke me of this habit... he's a get-up-and-go kind of person.

There you have it folks. I'm as interesting as a $2 bill. They exist, but are rare. Thanks for the tag, Wandering Nana!

theories on politics and parenting

I've been working on this post for a long time in my head. Just be forewarned that there are many generalizations here, and I don't mean to offend, so please just hear me out and if you want to comment then great. At least I'll get you thinking, right? Loyal followers, today we are going to talk about politics and parenting.

First, politics. Here are our nation's political parties as I choose to generalize them:

• Democratic: The government takes care of the people. You pay your taxes, and in return, the government makes sure your needs are met. Social programs like welfare, Medicare/Medicaid, Social Security, etc., are important. The Democratic party is, arguably, the more "charitable" party when it comes to funding programs for the needy. The government should ensure your quality of life.

• Republican: You take care of yourself. You pay taxes because you must, but you don't necessarily trust the government to be there for you. Predominantly agricultural states tend to be more Republican (taking care of yourself, growing your own food), Republicans are more likely to support, say, individual retirement accounts as opposed to Social Security (funding your own retirement), and I'd argue Republicans more passionately support educational programs that "teach a man to fish," instead of just funding a solution to his problem (education programs for homeless vs. tent cities, and the like).

OK. Now, parenting:

• Attachment Parenting (AP): The parent takes care of the baby -- literally. The baby is not permitted to cry, ever, indefinitely, because crying means the infant feels "abandoned" by the parents. The parent always soothes the baby, and co-sleeping is common. Advocates argue AP creates feelings of security in the child.

• Common Parenting: The child, when able, learns to take care of himself. The baby can learn to soothe himself to sleep, generally by needing to "cry it out" to figure out how to do so. Baby often sleeps in his crib. (I found this site that outlines the "opposite" to AP as the Babywise method, some of which I don't necessarily agree with, but if you're interested in more of the differences this is a good place to look.)

I was thinking about this a couple nights ago as I sat on our futon in Wesley's room, talking to him sweetly as he cried and cried and cried himself to sleep. I didn't want to leave him, but I knew that eventually he'd have to learn to put himself to sleep. The book Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child argues that sleep is an individual thing; I can't sleep for you, you can't sleep for me. A baby must sleep for himself.

As I sat there in the dark, my little heart breaking as Wesley cried, I thought to myself, "Wesley, you need to learn to do this. I can't do this for you." I know he is at the age where he can physically put himself to sleep. I believe it. All the books say it. So, I have to give him the opportunity to try it. To figure it out for himself. If I don't, I'm robbing him of an opportunity for growth, or even, an opportunity to fail (and learn from it). I couldn't help but think that my views were so very "teach a man to fish"... trying to give my son that opportunity to grow, even though it was painful (for both of us), and it would have been easier if I had just picked him up and rocked him for 20 minutes.

AP advocates argue, however, that a baby shouldn't be permitted to cry, under any circumstances. The parent, in all cases, needs to rush to the baby's side and "solve the problem." Soothe the baby to sleep at all times. Stop the car if the baby cries. Breastfeed for years. Offer the "family bed" as an alternative to a "cold, lonely" crib.

I have some friends who are staunch "AP believers," and they totally drive me crazy. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that this runs along political party lines (which would make sense, seeing as how Washington is extremely "blue"). If you lean more liberal and Democratic, you buy into the AP thing -- you rush to the aid of your child and take care of everything, like the government is expected to be a firm hand in the care of the country. If you're more conservative or Republican, you support what I would argue are more "traditional" or common methods of parenting (babies sleep in cribs; they use pacifiers; they cry sometimes), like government doesn't need to be this big entity controlling every aspect of everyone's lives.

Here are some other things to consider:

• AP outlines that the parents need to adjust to the baby's schedule, and baby is in control of feeding, sleeping, etc. I would argue otherwise and say there is a big world out there that was already in operation when the baby was born, and the baby should (not at first, mind you, but eventually) learn to adjust to it. If not, in a couple years what you'll have is one surprised (and spoiled rotten) kid who finally figures out he isn't the center of the universe.

• Maybe this is a family thing? Some of the AP advocates I know talk about co-sleeping with their parents until they were five, etc., which explains their being passionate about the practice. I slept in a crib; in fact, my folks have told me they let me cry it out. I feel pretty normal, and I don't hate them for it, nor have I ever felt abandoned or insecure.

• Baby goes to sleep at 7:30 pm, right? So, if you have a "family bed," you're going to leave your baby in bed while you go back to the dinner table or your blogs or your nightly chores? In the short period of time Wesley was sort-of sleeping with us, Shane forbid us to leave the room. You never know when baby's first "roll over" is going to be. Wouldn't you feel awful if it was off the bed, when you thought he was sleeping? And now that Wesley rolls over constantly, leaving him alone on the bed is absolutely out of the question.

• I feel intense pressure around AP followers to continue breastfeeding. Yes, it's healthy for my baby and I don't mind doing it for that reason (and avoiding the co$t of formula), but I wouldn't say I'm doing it for the "emotional" aspect of it. Sure, it's a nice way to bond with the baby, but I feel like I bond more with him when we're playing or I'm making him laugh. I often feel intense scrutiny that Wesley uses a pacifier. My AP friends argue that for their babies, "all sucking needs are at the breast," and since Wesley is a skinny little dude, all of a sudden I am a bad mother for starving my baby by giving him a pacifier so he can sleep in his crib instead of on my boob all night in the same bed.

• (And, to further badger the point across that I am anti co-sleeping, Wesley has teeth now and our pediatrician even encouraged me to wean him off night feedings since the sugars on his teeth are at their worst at night. A baby with teeth on mom's boob all night, I'd argue, would have the same issues as a baby with baby bottle syndrome. None of my AP-crazy friends' babies have teeth yet.)

• Wesley is such a good baby, but he cries in the car sometimes and I tell him, "Wesley, you're all right. You're fine." Eventually -- 5 minutes? at the most? -- he calms himself down and either falls asleep or looks out the window or whatever. He's fine. My AP friends stop the car and jump in the back and coddle their babies at the first whimper. Are you kidding me? A little fussing won't kill anyone. I look at it this way: Wesley's only way to communicate with me right now is by crying. When he is 10, he'll be able to talk. Right now, we go somewhere in the car and he's bored so he cries. When he's 10, we'll go somewhere in the car and he'll tell me he's bored, probably with a million "are we there yet?" and "how much longer?" statements. In either case, it's communication and totally normal. I'm not going to stop the car. He is fine. His needs are met.

• I heard once that a weak mother does everything herself, meaning, it's so much easier for a mother to do the laundry herself or clean up the house herself. The strong mother is the one that outlines chores for her child and teaches her child how to be self sufficient, even though it is painstakingly difficult sometimes. Sometimes I feel like that is the difference between the AP moms, who want to solve the problem themselves, and we other moms, who want to give our kids the opportunity to figure it out on their own. Even if it means there will be crying.

• I could go on for days.

This, to me, seems so "big government" (hyper-involved parents) vs. small government ("stand-back-and-see-what-he'll-do" parenting).

I must chime in with one exception, and that is that one of my good friends follows AP, but not by choice. She had a very very colicky baby and could not get him to sleep without her. He still sleeps with her. I know she'd put him in his crib, if she could. I know she'd give him more bottles, if she could. He's very very fussy. So, you do what you need to do to take care of your baby. I believe Wesley is well taken care of, and he is extremely loved and doted over. But he has cried himself to sleep, and that doesn't mean I love him any less (or that my pro-AP friends love their babies more).

And I guess the truth is, AP followers and myself, we both have the best intentions for our babies. We all have our struggles, and we're just trying to make our way through, doing what we think is best. I firmly believe that, even though I get confused sometimes at AP thinking.

So, now the day of reckoning for me: What do YOU think? Did you come from a co-sleeping family and do you vote liberal? Do you let your kids cry-it-out and grow their own tomatoes? Or, are you totally on opposite ends of the spectrum -- and how do you explain that?

P.S. As a final exclamation point that I think I'm faring well as a parent, Wesley has learned to soothe himself to sleep. My Christmas gift was a 13-hour stretch of him sleeping. I am sure that at various points in that 13 hours he woke up but was then able to soothe himself back to sleep in his crib without crying or needing me to come in and "save him." I couldn't be more thrilled. Bedtime is much better for us every night. We play and laugh and cuddle, and he goes right to sleep. Wow.

christmas potpourri

Sweet Potatoes vs. Yams

Friends, I have solved the mystery. What is the difference between a sweet potato and a yam? See, I was in the grocery store a bit ago and purchased something labeled a "sweet potato," although it was white and didn't look much different than a regular russet potato. But I took the sign's word for it. Then, just today, I purchased a "Beauregard yam," and I have made "red garnet yam" baby food for my Wesley. With all the various names and starchy vegetables, how can we know the truth?

OK here's the skinny. This site tells it best, and this site is a little more wordy. Yams do not exist in the United States; I repeat, yams do not exist in the United States. What we eat here are many varieties of sweet potatoes. When the folks down in Louisiana first discovered the "sweet potato," they wished to distinguish it from its relative, the regular potato, and labeled it a yam. To this day, we call them yams -- and the canned variety are even erroneously labeled "yams" -- while they are not. They are all sweet potatoes.

I am in for an interesting Christmas dinner; see I have both white (I'll assume "Jersey") sweet potatoes and Beauregard sweet potatoes, and I chopped them both up and nuked them both and mashed them both and put them both in a pan with brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and butter on top. And marshmallows tomorrow. So we'll see how it tastes.

I repeat, you are all eating sweet potatoes tomorrow. NOT yams. I feel better.

Weather Update

Yup, there's still snow. A lot of it. We took Wes-man outside, which was fun. Unfortunately, the whole time before we ventured outside when I was layering him with clothes he cried and cried. Anyway, I let him touch the snow, and then I made a snowball and threw it at Shane. I'm not sure he understood the point. Then we took some cutesy "Wesley's first snow" pictures. Then I made a snow angel. Then we came inside and the power went out. Haha... hmm. But it's back on. Thank goodness.


In fact, to beleaguer the point, one of my favorite Christmas Eve traditions is driving around looking at everyone's Christmas lights, and we couldn't do it this year because the snowy, icy roads. I am so bummed.

My Annual Misnomer

Every year, I remind Shane that he and Santa need to "stock my stuffing," and every year he laughs at me, and every year I can't for the life of me figure out why I just said that. I always get it wrong. On the first try, second try, third try. If I'm talking without thinking, I say "stock my stuffing." Am I weird or what?

Blinky Lights

Can anyone explain why when I put a flashy bulb in my string of multi-colored lights, only half of the string started flashing? Then I decided to be smart and put a second flashy bulb on the other side of the string (maybe they are controlled by two separate circuits? or something?), and then that side started flashing, yay, but they don't flash together. Which is kind of annoying. The only reason I gave up and am living with it is because Wesley is so enamored by the blinking lights. He's so adorable.

Baby's First

I was ultra tempted to buy a cute "Baby's First Christmas" stocking. Unfortunately, I only found blue or pink stockings. One would think I would buy the stocking, use it for one year, then put it away for the next kid. But I can't say emphatically the next kid will be "blue" or "pink." Where's a nice red Baby's First stocking? So Wesley is using this hilarious HUGE knitted green stocking, from where it came we have no idea, and I'll hit the after-Christmas sales and get us all nice matching stockings for the rest of our lives. I may even buy more, you know, so the cat and any future kids or dogs or whoever also have matching Gottula family stockings.

Grandma Twining is all over the "Baby's First" ornament. I am super thrilled. Thanks, momma. I put my two ornaments, circa 1980, on the tree this year and reveled in nostalgia.

We'll see what tomorrow holds for Wesley. I imagine he'll want to eat the wrapping paper and won't really care about his gifts. I bought some baby food for his stocking, but Shane got to it before I did and actually wrapped it. So we slapped a label on it and put it under the tree. Prunes, in case you're wondering.

Merry Christmas, all!!

snow and sand and salt, oh my!

Seattle is so weird.

I've always thought the reason Seattle didn't use salt on the roads in snowy weather was because the rain here tends to turn to snow quickly, and there is this "perfect time" when you've got to get salt on the roads to absorb the snow, but at that time it is usually raining, hence washing away the salt and rendering the entire effort useless. So instead, Seattle uses sand.

Not so, I learned today. I'll go ahead and summarize this article in the Seattle Times for you. Basically, Seattle thinks salt is bad for the environment and, being the sustainability-minded folks (Shane would say "tree huggers") they are, would rather use sand to mitigate the effects of the snow. They argue salt is, and I quote, "not a healthy addition to Puget Sound."

Oh geez, where to begin! My favorite part of the article is when they called a transportation person in Denver, where it um, snows a lot, and that person said:

"We never use sand. Sand causes dust, and there's also water-quality issues where it goes into streets and into our rivers."

OK, so if now salt is bad, and sand is bad, what should you use? I suppose what would make sense is to use the lesser of two evils. And how would one gauge that? I'd weigh in that you should use what actually works.

Salt works. It melts the snow and ice by lowering the freezing temperature, so your car doesn't slip and slide.

Sand works for a short period of time, maybe, absorbing the snow and packing it, so you can drive on it. However, if it is still snowing, sand doesn't to work. More snow on top of packed snow is just more of a mess, and the freezing temperature is the same, so ice still results and cars still slip and slide.

I'm all for doing things for the environment, but when the argument can be made that you're not actually helping the environment by doing what you think is helping the environment, then what?

I just hope Seattle realizes they are driving all of us mad. The roads are skating rinks. The transportation conditions are just part of the reason why I am sequestered by my husband, forbidden to drive (and we have a Subaru!), and beginning to go a little stir crazy. I had a ton of Christmas shopping to do that won't get done. I think I'll make little coupons that say "new bath squirters" and "new bibs" and wrap them up in boxes for Wesley. Since I'm not going anywhere today.

can't control mother nature

We return to find our heroine heartbroken; but why, you ask? Let's go chronologically.

June: I'm chatting with my super cool new friend Stephanie (we took our childbirthing classes together), and she tells us she worked for Alaska Airlines. I feel they should seriously make a movie about her life. She was a flight attendant and met her husband, a pilot, when they both had a layover in Chicago and she wanted someone to explore the city with. They fall in love, get married, and now have a cute baby. How romantic!

Novemberish: We're talking about family and holidays, and I'm sadly explaining that my folks live in Maryland and it's tough to get there to see them often. Stephanie, duh, tells me she has buddy passes thru Alaska and could fly me to Washington, D.C. for less than $100 a person! (To put this in perspective, last time I went to Maryland I think we bought $350+ plane tickets.) I think, wow!, but dismiss it, since Shane has instituted a "no-fly" rule with the baby. We've all been on flights with unruly babies, right? And he never wanted that to be us.

Thanksgiving: We're with Shane's family and talking about what a fabulous baby Wesley is, and Shane casually lifts the no-fly rule and says we should go to Maryland for Christmas. Say what? Is there a bug in my ear? At first I think he's kidding.

Two weeks later: Shane isn't kidding. "Are we going to Maryland for Christmas, honey?," he asks. I scramble. Tickets are wildly expensive. Then I remember Stephanie.

A week later: Stephanie checks the "flight loads" for me. Buddy passes are standby, which is a little more of a hassle, but you can't beat the price. She checks how full the flights are; the more open seats the better. She tells me she usually only sends people off to fly when the flights are "wide open," since she likes to be sure they'll make it. We decide on dates.... Monday December 22 to get us to DC, Monday December 29 to get us back. She tells me she's never flown anyone at Christmas before! But in her 10 years of working for Alaska and getting friends buddy passes, everyone has been successful. She tells me to call her every day and she'll check the flight loads. I'm ecstatic because I just know I'll be her first successful Christmas traveler.

Sunday: Seattle has a huge snow storm. At first I am in denial. I still think of Wesley as a tiny newborn, and since he was born in May, it's still the summer, right? In fact, it is winter. And the storm is very yucky. Very icy. But historically, Seattle snow comes and goes. So I don't think anything more of it.

Wednesday: It's still snowy. I commute to work fine, but I'm on the bus a bit longer coming home. Shane quarantines me on Thursday and Friday because I tend to slip and slide. It's still snowing?? I'm incredulous.

Thursday: I'm researching park-and-fly locations, rental cars, and even hotel rooms and day trips (anyone up for a tour of the the Naval Academy in Annapolis?). Mom and dad are so excited. Mom tells me she has a Baby's First Christmas ornament for Wesley. I can't wait to see them.

Friday: I book our tickets. According to Stephanie, there are 25 open seats on a 9:15 am flight to DC, and 20 open seats on a 2 pm flight, both on Monday the 22. Wahoo! Lots of space! If we don't make the first, we've got a good chance to make the second. We're going to Maryland!

Saturday: Another huge storm hits. I beg Shane to take me to Babies R Us for last-minute Christmas shopping. We're in a swarm of traffic and snow madness. We make it home in one piece.

Saturday afternoon: I talk to Stephanie. The flights still look good. She says if it was her, she'd go to the airport. And she's been flying to places for 10 years.

Today: The newspaper headlines talk about insanity at the airport: flights have been delayed, travelers are frustrated, and the Christmas coming-and-going has only just begun. And now, dear readers, the foreshadowing comes to light: It hits me. I want to fly tomorrow. Insanity at the airport could totally affect me.

I call Stephanie. She checks the flight loads. Holy cow. How did one flight go from 20+ open seats to NEGATIVE THREE seats overnight?

The airport is a mess. Stephanie calls a friend and the inside scoop is that the airport is running out of de-icer. Any plane that has been sitting on the ground for a couple hours and needs to be de-iced, isn't getting it. The only planes leaving are those coming in, filing their passengers out and loading new passengers on in record time, and taking off immediately.

It turns out the 9:15 am flight to DC for today, Sunday, was very very late. It didn't leave until after 1 pm. The 2 pm flight to DC was eventually canceled.

Alaska is super nice to its paying customers and allows rescheduling for no fee for weather-related incidents. So everyone who showed up this morning and saw a 4-hour delay for their flight could reschedule for tomorrow morning, go home, and avoid the mess. And I guess they did.

This afternoon: I call Stephanie again. Alaska has halted all service from Seattle. No planes are leaving. Everything is canceled for the rest of the day. According to the flight status reports online, they've already canceled tomorrow morning's 9:15 am flight. My flight.

And so we find our heroine, calling her mom and dad with tears in her eyes. "Momma, I'm not coming. You won't get to see your grandbaby for Christmas. We'll try to come in January. Stephanie says January is a very boring travel month, so for sure we'll make it. But Christmas won't be the same. I'll miss you."

I'm bummed, yes. I realize it was risky, trying to fly standby at Christmas. But it would have worked. We were thisclose, if not for that darn Mother Nature and her idea of a White Christmas.

Tomorrow: Gotta get to a grocery store. No food in the house. We thought we were going out of town. Wesley is sleeping soundly, and I might curl up under a blanket and sigh. What a day.

break from our regularly scheduled programming

FYI: I am not posting today so I can go to Google Reader and enjoy the 607 blog posts from YOU GUYS that are waiting for me. So there you have it.