Operating Instructions

I’ve finally gotten around to reading Anne Lamott’s book about the first year of her son’s life, a book I think Andi recommended to me before Django was even out of my belly. If you ask me, it should be required reading for new moms. Especially new single moms. Especially new single moms with chequered pasts. I’ve completely dog-eared my copy, and my copy actually belongs to the public library, a temptation I usually resist out of respect for the next reader who might not share my taste in memorable passages. But I can’t help it. She tells it so much like it is – the good, the bad, the ugly, and the uglier still. In these last precious days before I return to work full-time, this is the paragraph I find myself reading again and again, and again:

“I feel like my mind becomes a lake full of ugly fish and big clumps of algae and coral, of feelings and unhappy memories and rehearsals for future difficulties and failures. I paddle around in it like some crazy old dog, and then I remember that there’s a float in the middle of the lake and I can swim out to it and lie down in the sun. That float is about being loved, by my friends and by God and even sort of by me. And so Iie there and get warm and dry off, and I guess I get bored or else it is human nature because after a while I jump back into the lake, and into all that crap. I guess the solution is just to keep trying to get back to the float.”

I keep getting caught between the urge to batten the hatches, hunker down in preparation for a big storm, and the impulse to throw open all the windows, let the weather pass right on through. So, I’ve given up nightime socializing in favor of an early bedtime routine, but I’ve also starting romping in the baby food aisle for fun little jars of pureed vegetables for Django to try, even though the authorities say we should wait another month.

What I wish I could do is cry. I think I’m in need of a really good cry. Maybe even one a day. But there’s no time for that. And I’m not yet ready to let Django see how terribly alone, overwhelmed and afraid his mama sometimes feels.( We can cover that ground once he hits middle school.)

I sure hope I don’t miss too much during the 6 weeks I’m only getting to see him a few wakeful hours a day. He’s already sitting up on his own for little stretches of time, and pushing his torso so high with his strong arms. I just know, any minute now, he’s going to figure out how to creep or roll. And I want to be there to shriek and clap and kiss, kiss, kiss when it happens.

I simply want to be there. All the time. Always.

Hittin' the Bottle

After our first sour-milk disaster with the bottle, I was worried Django would have a lingering negative impression of the thing. But, as you can see above, he's over it. He likes the bottle just fine, especially if he gets to hold it and I'm sitting nearby. We're still working on his skills at taking the bottle from other people. In fact, if any of you are in the neighborhood and would like to give him some practice, stop on by.

The other thing(s) he really likes to hold these days are his feet. Every time I turn around he's found a new way to grab at them. The other day he wouldn't even let me attach the toy tray to his Bebe Pod, as you can see. He was too busy twinkling his own toes.

Even though we've been keeping a full activity card -- cruising Costco again with Dragovich, lunching afterward with Gaitley, dining at Universal Cafe with Jen & Monique, playing infant-vision research subject at the Smith-Kettlewell lab, registering our new car at the DMV, enjoying a sunny afternoon at the Botanical Garden with Charly & Lera, whooping it up with a gang of moms & little ones at Vega's, eating Indian Pizza with Andi (after she babysat while I went to yoga!!), watching the fog roll in over a picnic dinner in the park with MDN, joining the Stonestown YMCA, visiting Joannie at City Hall, and sipping wine with John & Sachiko at Vino Rosso -- I still find time to worry about having to leave my little man and return to work full-time for 6 weeks. It's like a constant static in my brain, messes with my reception all day long. As soon as I can be clear and articulate about why it's so troubling, I certainly will. Until then, you'll probably find more photos and less words from me here.

Pitfalls of Single Parenthood

Until recently, not only did it seem reasonably manageable to be a single parent but sometimes even easier than having a partner to worry about, negotiate with, try not to scapegoat. In the last couple of weeks, however, I've discovered two things you really don't want to be handling on your own, if you can at all avoid it: 1) loading and unloading the car from a 10-day road trip; and 2) going back to work full-time.

We ended up having a fantastic time on the road visiting Nana, Aunt Jenny & Uncle Steve plus The Cousins on the Central Coast, as well as Poppa & Laura in Bakersfield. Laura took us on a special trip to the local wildflowers and Toys-R-Us -- evidence of both pictured here. Uncle Jon drove up from L.A. for a rendezvous, too. But since our return a week ago, I've been careening between depressively exhausted and maniacally preoccupied. I'm not due back at work until 5/1/08, but the idea of leaving my little fella with a stranger for 9.5 hours a day -- nice as that stranger may be -- is looming large and ugly in my mind.

The boy, I'm pleased to report, isn't anguished in the least (yet.) He's happy and healthy, and charming the pants off everyone he meets. Dr. Bojorquez said he was "perfect" at our 4-month checkup. Since our 2-month checkup he had gained just over 4 lbs to weigh in at a hefty 15 lbs 12 oz, and had grown 3.5 inches to a total length of 26 inches. His head's expanding. Brain, too, I'm willing to bet. His eyes twinkle at everything around him. You can tell, he just can't wait to be able to propel himself on all sorts of more in-depth explorations of the world. Lately, he's been arching his back like crazy. And just yesterday, after MUCH effort, I witnessed him using this move to help turn himself over, from back to belly, for the first time.

Now, if only I were so focused, determined and productive.