Once Upon a Midnight Dreary . . .
After giving us two nights of sleep, Abbey is awake again. Not screaming, but I have taken her out of the bedroom just in case so that DOB can get his sleep. My theory is that it's just too hot. I have her in a very fuzzy sleeper because she has wet almost everything else, and I just discovered the A/C had been turned up to 78. So I have turned it back down and am waiting for coolness to ensue.
In other household news, the slow-moving drain situation has reached crisis proportions. I pulled a growing bean plant out of the bathroom sink plug yesterday. Nasty.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Doing Our Part
Someone has finally run the numbers on the impact abortion has on electoral politics . . . and the news is bad for liberals. Turns out that people who believe that abortions are good are more likely to have them. And that people who don't reproduce don't pass on their values. The end result is more power to conservatives.
Abortions are quantifiable; unquantifiable but equally significant for this purpose are the numbers of children never even conceived because of an anti-life philosophy. I bet the ideological skewing is similar. Liberals can babble on about "it takes a village" and "children are our future," but the reality is babies aren't made by villages and those who are never born have no future. Bearing and raising children is a task that inherently skews conservative. It is the ultimate form of conservation--passing on the human race.
It's good to know that life still is stronger than death. And that while I change diapers I'm also doing my own small part in saving the country. ;-)
Someone has finally run the numbers on the impact abortion has on electoral politics . . . and the news is bad for liberals. Turns out that people who believe that abortions are good are more likely to have them. And that people who don't reproduce don't pass on their values. The end result is more power to conservatives.
Abortions are quantifiable; unquantifiable but equally significant for this purpose are the numbers of children never even conceived because of an anti-life philosophy. I bet the ideological skewing is similar. Liberals can babble on about "it takes a village" and "children are our future," but the reality is babies aren't made by villages and those who are never born have no future. Bearing and raising children is a task that inherently skews conservative. It is the ultimate form of conservation--passing on the human race.
It's good to know that life still is stronger than death. And that while I change diapers I'm also doing my own small part in saving the country. ;-)
Ode to Sleep
Yes, somehow, someway, Abbey made it through the night without a single scream. (This is not, of course, the same thing as sleeping through the night, except for Papa. But hey, he doesn't get to nap so it comes out OK.) We're not sure whether it was the change of sleeping location, change of feeding schedule, or simply the result of fervent prayer, but we happily accept it.
She has developed a new trick. She loads up a diaper, then waits for Mama to decide it is time for a change. Carefully she waits for the precise moment when the fresh, clean diaper has just been pinned in place, stares absent-mindedly off into space, as if contemplating the future of Social Security . . . then Whammo!
Then she waits until Mama has changed her again and just sat down and gotten comfortable, and she loads up a third.
Since I only have 12 newborn-sized diapers, I'm having to wash them once a day (and I'm wondering if we'll make it that far today). I'm grateful for two things: 1) I'm using cloth, otherwise I'd see dollar signs ringing before my eyes every time she does this 2) she's not a boy. If she were, I feel certain he would know not to wait until the diaper was on . . .
Yes, somehow, someway, Abbey made it through the night without a single scream. (This is not, of course, the same thing as sleeping through the night, except for Papa. But hey, he doesn't get to nap so it comes out OK.) We're not sure whether it was the change of sleeping location, change of feeding schedule, or simply the result of fervent prayer, but we happily accept it.
She has developed a new trick. She loads up a diaper, then waits for Mama to decide it is time for a change. Carefully she waits for the precise moment when the fresh, clean diaper has just been pinned in place, stares absent-mindedly off into space, as if contemplating the future of Social Security . . . then Whammo!
Then she waits until Mama has changed her again and just sat down and gotten comfortable, and she loads up a third.
Since I only have 12 newborn-sized diapers, I'm having to wash them once a day (and I'm wondering if we'll make it that far today). I'm grateful for two things: 1) I'm using cloth, otherwise I'd see dollar signs ringing before my eyes every time she does this 2) she's not a boy. If she were, I feel certain he would know not to wait until the diaper was on . . .
Monday, June 28, 2004
Important Diaper Developments
A diaper in Israel saves a baby's life by absorbing snake venom.
The critical question not addressed in the story is: disposable or cloth? My guess is cloth, since disposable diaper technology creates ever-trimmer packages, while the layers of cloth necessary for a one-year-old would fend off the fangs of any snake.
Also on the cloth diapering front, the internet is a wonderful thing. Where else are you going to get advice on how to wash your first load of dirty diapers at 3 a.m. when you suddenly realize you are running out? There's always Grandma, of course, but she needs her sleep.
A diaper in Israel saves a baby's life by absorbing snake venom.
The critical question not addressed in the story is: disposable or cloth? My guess is cloth, since disposable diaper technology creates ever-trimmer packages, while the layers of cloth necessary for a one-year-old would fend off the fangs of any snake.
Also on the cloth diapering front, the internet is a wonderful thing. Where else are you going to get advice on how to wash your first load of dirty diapers at 3 a.m. when you suddenly realize you are running out? There's always Grandma, of course, but she needs her sleep.
Gray Hair Check
As if becoming a father wasn't enough of an aging event, DOB received a solicitation for membership from the AARP last week.
It would make sense that they had somehow confused him with his father, but he never issued a general forwarding order from his parents' address. So we can rule that out and just conclude he's turning into an old fogey.
Until he reminds me when my birthday is relative to his . . .
As if becoming a father wasn't enough of an aging event, DOB received a solicitation for membership from the AARP last week.
It would make sense that they had somehow confused him with his father, but he never issued a general forwarding order from his parents' address. So we can rule that out and just conclude he's turning into an old fogey.
Until he reminds me when my birthday is relative to his . . .
Sunday, June 27, 2004
Drumroll, Please
For all those who have been anxiously waiting, we now have pictures.
Many thanks to Aunt Bettie and Uncle Steve for coming by and taking them. Many kudos to Abbey for surviving a bath and a picture taking session with nary a whimper. She made up for it later.
For all those who have been anxiously waiting, we now have pictures.
Many thanks to Aunt Bettie and Uncle Steve for coming by and taking them. Many kudos to Abbey for surviving a bath and a picture taking session with nary a whimper. She made up for it later.
More 2 a.m. Musings
Abbey (that's how it's spelled, yes we know that's the building) has a strange propensity for screaming from 2 to 4 in the morning. Now we know crying is common in babies, but the precise timing of this had us mystified. Especially since she is otherwise the most incredibly even-tempered baby in the world. (She took a *bath* yesterday without uttering a peep.) She ordinarily sleeps through vaccuuming and puts up with the gaseous troubles of infant life with scarcely a murmur. Yet somehow in the middle of the night the slightest discomfort becomes agony.
So last night we developed a new theory. The only significance we can find to the timing of her discomfort is that it coincides with her birth. She starts getting noisy about 1:30, when I started pushing, and quiets down shortly after 4, when she was born. Perhaps she is suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome and having flashbacks.
Now that we have this theory we're not sure what to do with it, but perhaps it will at least serve to console us that we are not doing something horribly wrong.
Abbey (that's how it's spelled, yes we know that's the building) has a strange propensity for screaming from 2 to 4 in the morning. Now we know crying is common in babies, but the precise timing of this had us mystified. Especially since she is otherwise the most incredibly even-tempered baby in the world. (She took a *bath* yesterday without uttering a peep.) She ordinarily sleeps through vaccuuming and puts up with the gaseous troubles of infant life with scarcely a murmur. Yet somehow in the middle of the night the slightest discomfort becomes agony.
So last night we developed a new theory. The only significance we can find to the timing of her discomfort is that it coincides with her birth. She starts getting noisy about 1:30, when I started pushing, and quiets down shortly after 4, when she was born. Perhaps she is suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome and having flashbacks.
Now that we have this theory we're not sure what to do with it, but perhaps it will at least serve to console us that we are not doing something horribly wrong.
Friday, June 25, 2004
Life With Baby
No, we still don't have any pictures. Any kind soul who wants to donate a digital camera to the cause will win the nation's gratitude . . . ;-) We can assure you she is extremely cute. Her head is not smooshed and her skin is not blotchy.
The weirdest thing about being a new parent is the strange obsession you develop with another person's bodily functions. ("Hooray, she's had her designated number of dirty diapers today!")
My mother's preferred lullaby was the words "Bye, oh baby" sung over and over to the tune of "Come, Thou Fount." Ronald used to object to these words as being lame. However, at two a.m., they provide a great relief to a mind unable to process any greater lyrical complexity. At two a.m. it is too difficult to remember what Papa's going to buy you if the looking glass gets broke.
No, we still don't have any pictures. Any kind soul who wants to donate a digital camera to the cause will win the nation's gratitude . . . ;-) We can assure you she is extremely cute. Her head is not smooshed and her skin is not blotchy.
The weirdest thing about being a new parent is the strange obsession you develop with another person's bodily functions. ("Hooray, she's had her designated number of dirty diapers today!")
My mother's preferred lullaby was the words "Bye, oh baby" sung over and over to the tune of "Come, Thou Fount." Ronald used to object to these words as being lame. However, at two a.m., they provide a great relief to a mind unable to process any greater lyrical complexity. At two a.m. it is too difficult to remember what Papa's going to buy you if the looking glass gets broke.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Monday, June 21, 2004
When I gave the baby permission to wait until Wednesday, I didn't mean he could start labor immediately and then wait until Wednesday to actually been born.
I've been having contractions since Friday night. During the night they'll rise almost to go-to-the-hospital levels (which since we're only five minutes from the hospital, is a pretty high level.) And then they'll back off again. But never quite go away.
This is getting very annoying. Also very sleep-depriving.
But one must cope somehow. I'm trying to reset my goals. There's a lady at church who was in labor for two weeks with her oldest. So my new goal is to beat Mary Kappas and labor for three weeks.
I've been having contractions since Friday night. During the night they'll rise almost to go-to-the-hospital levels (which since we're only five minutes from the hospital, is a pretty high level.) And then they'll back off again. But never quite go away.
This is getting very annoying. Also very sleep-depriving.
But one must cope somehow. I'm trying to reset my goals. There's a lady at church who was in labor for two weeks with her oldest. So my new goal is to beat Mary Kappas and labor for three weeks.
Friday, June 18, 2004
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Protective Warnings
In other news on the adventures of teenagers, a radio announcement this morning started out with, "Police are warning citizens of the dangers of breaking into pools." The story continued with the tale of some teenagers who had broken into a public pool off-hours, one of whom had dived into the deep end and then, apparently, remembered that he could not swim.
I don't know how much danger there is in breaking into pools, but there is a whole lot of danger in being an idiot. When are they going to start issuing warnings on that?
In other news on the adventures of teenagers, a radio announcement this morning started out with, "Police are warning citizens of the dangers of breaking into pools." The story continued with the tale of some teenagers who had broken into a public pool off-hours, one of whom had dived into the deep end and then, apparently, remembered that he could not swim.
I don't know how much danger there is in breaking into pools, but there is a whole lot of danger in being an idiot. When are they going to start issuing warnings on that?
Threats to Chickens
Some teenagers were convicted of animal cruelty for beheading chickens, out of curiosity over whether they really would run around 'like chickens with their heads cut off.'
Now, I'm all for punishing them for theft, and cleaning out coops is a good part of it--but reading a book on animal feelings? Does any chicken raiser out there really want to contend that chickens have feelings?
They should have been punished by being put on the butchering detail. And then frying the chickens up for dinner. That would have satisfied their curiosity in a hurry.
Some teenagers were convicted of animal cruelty for beheading chickens, out of curiosity over whether they really would run around 'like chickens with their heads cut off.'
Now, I'm all for punishing them for theft, and cleaning out coops is a good part of it--but reading a book on animal feelings? Does any chicken raiser out there really want to contend that chickens have feelings?
They should have been punished by being put on the butchering detail. And then frying the chickens up for dinner. That would have satisfied their curiosity in a hurry.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Groan
< whine >This baby weighs a ton. I can't believe it's still a week and a half to my due date. Everything hurts.< /whine >
They've arrested someone in Cincinnati for plotting to blow up a mall in Columbus. Good but disturbing. I was relying on being in "flyover zone" as my primary terrorism defense.
< whine >This baby weighs a ton. I can't believe it's still a week and a half to my due date. Everything hurts.< /whine >
They've arrested someone in Cincinnati for plotting to blow up a mall in Columbus. Good but disturbing. I was relying on being in "flyover zone" as my primary terrorism defense.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Progress
I put all the baby stuff away yesterday; today I must write thank you notes. (My wedding thank you note experience has been sufficient to convince me of the urgency of doing thank you notes immediately, before people move or forget who you are.)
I am also working on a letter to the editor in response to a Howard Dean column in our local paper, in which he complains that the richest, most advanced country in the world doesn't have the universal health care system that even poor countries have. Liberals apparently believe that wealth is distributed randomly over the world, like water, and that all we need is a more equitable irrigation system. Wealth is more like those endangered species they want to protect: it only flourishes under the right circumstances.
I put all the baby stuff away yesterday; today I must write thank you notes. (My wedding thank you note experience has been sufficient to convince me of the urgency of doing thank you notes immediately, before people move or forget who you are.)
I am also working on a letter to the editor in response to a Howard Dean column in our local paper, in which he complains that the richest, most advanced country in the world doesn't have the universal health care system that even poor countries have. Liberals apparently believe that wealth is distributed randomly over the world, like water, and that all we need is a more equitable irrigation system. Wealth is more like those endangered species they want to protect: it only flourishes under the right circumstances.
Monday, June 14, 2004
Ignorance is Sub-Blissful
Saturday night we watched the movie Miracle, about the 1980 US Olympic Hockey Team. It was a great movie, and I thought as we watched it that my enjoyment of it was not significantly diminished by my total ignorance of hockey. Until we got to the critical game against the Soviets. I saw the tension building up as the US team valiantly overcame the Soviet's lead, but I saw on the scoreboard that there were only three periods and remained calm, figuring, "This is nothing--the really tense period is yet to come."
And then it was all over. And thus I discovered that hockey usually only has three periods, unless the game is tied at the end of the third.
That really is all you need to know about hockey to enjoy the movie. But it would have helped if I had known that much.
Saturday night we watched the movie Miracle, about the 1980 US Olympic Hockey Team. It was a great movie, and I thought as we watched it that my enjoyment of it was not significantly diminished by my total ignorance of hockey. Until we got to the critical game against the Soviets. I saw the tension building up as the US team valiantly overcame the Soviet's lead, but I saw on the scoreboard that there were only three periods and remained calm, figuring, "This is nothing--the really tense period is yet to come."
And then it was all over. And thus I discovered that hockey usually only has three periods, unless the game is tied at the end of the third.
That really is all you need to know about hockey to enjoy the movie. But it would have helped if I had known that much.
The Key Curse Strikes Again
Only this time it wasn't me who had the key problem. It was the ladies who were unlocking the church for the baby shower on Friday night. The pastor, who was out of town, had given them the key and a tutorial, but due to some key/lock conflict it apparently requires divine assistance to actually turn the lock. The ladies successfully unlocked the deadbolt, but couldn't get the key out--and since the same key was needed to unlock the doorknob, we were stuck. I remarked brightly that at least we weren't having a thunderstorm at the moment, but they told me to be quiet. I began to wonder if we would have a baby shower in the parking lot.
After some loud Baptist prayers, ten or fifteen minutes of fiddling, and the application of a pair of pliers, the key came out. Unfortunately it came out leaving the deadbolt locked. But they were wiser this time. First they unlocked the doorknob, then they unlocked the deadbolt, and they left the key in the deadbolt for anyone who wanted to attempt it while we went inside.
After that the shower proceeded uneventfully, but enjoyably. We got a lot of sleepers and blankets and bibs and similarly useful things. Our favorite is a Snoopy sleeper. The outfit going to the hospital is a striped gown with a coordinating blanket with little animals. (Like you really wanted to know all this.)
Meanwhile, DOB and his dad had been plotting for weeks to spend the evening working on assorted chores involving power tools and moving large items. They misled me by asserting that the boys would come up on Saturday to do these tasks, while Friday night DOB would go down there to watch a pirate movie with them. I was utterly confused when DOB's dad and brothers left the house abruptly just before I left with the female portion of the family for the shower, but was quite thrilled to arrive home and find everything done. Thanks to another brother going to pick up our car on Saturday, that left us with a very enjoyable Saturday to putter around and clean stuff up.
Only this time it wasn't me who had the key problem. It was the ladies who were unlocking the church for the baby shower on Friday night. The pastor, who was out of town, had given them the key and a tutorial, but due to some key/lock conflict it apparently requires divine assistance to actually turn the lock. The ladies successfully unlocked the deadbolt, but couldn't get the key out--and since the same key was needed to unlock the doorknob, we were stuck. I remarked brightly that at least we weren't having a thunderstorm at the moment, but they told me to be quiet. I began to wonder if we would have a baby shower in the parking lot.
After some loud Baptist prayers, ten or fifteen minutes of fiddling, and the application of a pair of pliers, the key came out. Unfortunately it came out leaving the deadbolt locked. But they were wiser this time. First they unlocked the doorknob, then they unlocked the deadbolt, and they left the key in the deadbolt for anyone who wanted to attempt it while we went inside.
After that the shower proceeded uneventfully, but enjoyably. We got a lot of sleepers and blankets and bibs and similarly useful things. Our favorite is a Snoopy sleeper. The outfit going to the hospital is a striped gown with a coordinating blanket with little animals. (Like you really wanted to know all this.)
Meanwhile, DOB and his dad had been plotting for weeks to spend the evening working on assorted chores involving power tools and moving large items. They misled me by asserting that the boys would come up on Saturday to do these tasks, while Friday night DOB would go down there to watch a pirate movie with them. I was utterly confused when DOB's dad and brothers left the house abruptly just before I left with the female portion of the family for the shower, but was quite thrilled to arrive home and find everything done. Thanks to another brother going to pick up our car on Saturday, that left us with a very enjoyable Saturday to putter around and clean stuff up.
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