I suppose one aspect of getting older is that you start to have realizations that previously escaped you. You realize that people you care about can be mean, life isn't always fair, even pretty people poop (that was a big eye-opener for me, lemme tell ya...) and that yes, we're all going to die at some point in time.
My most recent realization is that people complain...about the same things...every single year. Snow, heat, bad drivers (notice it's always '[fill in the state] drivers' who are supposedly lacking in basic driving skills?), the return of students to college campuses, long lines at stores during holiday shopping season, the list goes on...
People...winter arrives and with it comes snow. These days we get less snow than folks did 50 years ago, so there's really nothing to complain about. Get over it. Summer is hot. You likely drive just as poorly, if not worse than the person you're complaining about. Colleges are not supposed to be vast empty spaces of land for your personal enjoyment; they are institutes of higher learning and students belong there. Deal with it. Xmas lines? Shop online.
Am I being too complainy?
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Feeding the Family
Well, the verdict is in: my breastmilk is a fan favorite.
Due to S's continued dairy allergy/other food allergy/GURD/reflux, she still from time to time will spit up copious amounts of milk after nursing. B did the same thing when she was a baby (we determined she had a dairy allergy), and since she never had any problems losing weight, neither the midwives nor doctors were ever worried about it. S is also easily putting on the pounds, so I just abstain from dairy and monitor her for reaction (or lack of reaction).
Well, the last two days have proven to show that my--uh, nourishment--is appreciated by those other than baby. After S spit up milk last night, a nice puddle formed on the floor beneath me. Both dogs lunged right for it, and lapped it up with gusto. I observed them doing the same today. Part of me wants to cringe, but the other part of me is glad that this liquid gold isn't going to waste. Still, it's kinda...shiver...
When I was a new mother to B, I really wanted to know what my own milk tasted like, but I felt weird tasting my own milk. So, I did the next logical thing and forced my husband to taste it for me. I squirted a small amount into a bottle for him and asked him to drink. He did, and commented that it didn't have much taste beyond a sweet watery liquid. My curiosity got the better of me and I ended up trying some for myself. He was right; it wasn't the thick, creamy "dairy" taste I was expecting.
B still asks for a little breastmilk when she's feeling vulnerable (mostly about not getting as much attention as her baby sister does), and I make sure to squirt a bit into her mouth when it seems she might be coming down with a cold. The other day, however, she asked me to put some breastmilk into her cereal (or what it her hot cocoa?). I have to say I drew the line there...
If I start having to provide milk for an entire family (a la The Grapes of Wrath), I just might make it back into my pre-pregnancy jeans without having to take a deep breath first.
Due to S's continued dairy allergy/other food allergy/GURD/reflux, she still from time to time will spit up copious amounts of milk after nursing. B did the same thing when she was a baby (we determined she had a dairy allergy), and since she never had any problems losing weight, neither the midwives nor doctors were ever worried about it. S is also easily putting on the pounds, so I just abstain from dairy and monitor her for reaction (or lack of reaction).
Well, the last two days have proven to show that my--uh, nourishment--is appreciated by those other than baby. After S spit up milk last night, a nice puddle formed on the floor beneath me. Both dogs lunged right for it, and lapped it up with gusto. I observed them doing the same today. Part of me wants to cringe, but the other part of me is glad that this liquid gold isn't going to waste. Still, it's kinda...shiver...
When I was a new mother to B, I really wanted to know what my own milk tasted like, but I felt weird tasting my own milk. So, I did the next logical thing and forced my husband to taste it for me. I squirted a small amount into a bottle for him and asked him to drink. He did, and commented that it didn't have much taste beyond a sweet watery liquid. My curiosity got the better of me and I ended up trying some for myself. He was right; it wasn't the thick, creamy "dairy" taste I was expecting.
B still asks for a little breastmilk when she's feeling vulnerable (mostly about not getting as much attention as her baby sister does), and I make sure to squirt a bit into her mouth when it seems she might be coming down with a cold. The other day, however, she asked me to put some breastmilk into her cereal (or what it her hot cocoa?). I have to say I drew the line there...
If I start having to provide milk for an entire family (a la The Grapes of Wrath), I just might make it back into my pre-pregnancy jeans without having to take a deep breath first.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Employment Rising
I have a phone interview next week! This is the first in over a year of job-hunting. I'll give more details about the position and organization after the interview. Wish me luck!
Brown-eyed Girls
For the record, I have nothing against blue eyes. I married a blue-eyed man, and I find his eyes lovely. My first child was born with blue eyes, and they were beautiful. They are equally as beautiful as they have changed to brown.
I do realize that it's 'the thing' now to be a mommy who complains about all the rude and insensitive things the general public utters my way. I tried to keep my complaints to a minimum when I was pregnant and strangers, friends and family would insist on telling me what gender baby I was having (despite the fact that we chose not to find out and were not soliciting opinions...all of which turned out to be wrong, by the way!).
I've tried to be more open to making time for strangers at the store to peer in at a sleeping Samara, and answer numerous questions about her headful of hair, even when I really just want to grab a few items and make my way through checkout. After all, isn't appreciating and loving on a little baby a sign that there's still humanity left in the world? I remind myself that I'll miss these days once she's older.
But, if I get to cash in my one complaint card, it's for this typical exchange:
Stranger: Look at those blue eyes! They are so lovely!
Me: Thanks
Stranger: Will they stay blue?
Me: I doubt it. My older daughter was also born with blue eyes, but they eventually turned brown.
Stranger: Oh, what a shame! That's too bad!
What?????
Did these folks fail to hear that my first daughter has brown eyes? And brown eyes do not make her any less beautiful. Not to mention the fact that I have brown eyes...is that a shame, too?
I realize I might be overly sensitive here, but I find these comments overtly offensive. Somehow, people have put a premium on blue eyes as though they are the be all that ends all. I get the same comments about Samara's straight hair: 'It won't stay straight? It'll curl? What a pity!' Ya know, Shirley Temple made loads off her curls, and Van Morrison didn't sing about his 'blue-eyed girl'. When did these features become so undesirable? I can't help but feel that there is a subtle racial component underpinning all this...after all, there's only one ethnic group that consistently exhibits blue eyes and straight hair. So...if my children bear more of my traits than those of their Anglo father, then that's 'a pity'? What is the unspoken implication there? That my genetic contribution is inferior?
Scientific understanding of eye color has increased and evolved in recent years. The previous understanding was that eye color was determined by single dominant and recessive alleles at a single locus, aka--a person with blue eyes would have to have two recessive alleles for blue eyes, but a person with brown eyes could either have two dominant allele for brown eyes, or one recessive blue and one dominant brown. It's been determined, however, that eye color is much more complex, involving many alleles at several loci. Bottom line, just because I have brown eyes and likely have passed a dominant brown allele to my baby, there is still a chance she could keep her blue eyes. Personally, I find the science behind this much more interesting than how she looks with whatever eye color. Having said that, I would love for her to have blue eyes like her dad. I would also be thrilled if she ends up with brown eyes like her mama. Or maybe she'll fool all of us and end up with grey, green or amber eyes.
Whatever her final eye color, she'll always be my beautiful girl, and there's no pity or shame in that.
I do realize that it's 'the thing' now to be a mommy who complains about all the rude and insensitive things the general public utters my way. I tried to keep my complaints to a minimum when I was pregnant and strangers, friends and family would insist on telling me what gender baby I was having (despite the fact that we chose not to find out and were not soliciting opinions...all of which turned out to be wrong, by the way!).
I've tried to be more open to making time for strangers at the store to peer in at a sleeping Samara, and answer numerous questions about her headful of hair, even when I really just want to grab a few items and make my way through checkout. After all, isn't appreciating and loving on a little baby a sign that there's still humanity left in the world? I remind myself that I'll miss these days once she's older.
But, if I get to cash in my one complaint card, it's for this typical exchange:
Stranger: Look at those blue eyes! They are so lovely!
Me: Thanks
Stranger: Will they stay blue?
Me: I doubt it. My older daughter was also born with blue eyes, but they eventually turned brown.
Stranger: Oh, what a shame! That's too bad!
What?????
Did these folks fail to hear that my first daughter has brown eyes? And brown eyes do not make her any less beautiful. Not to mention the fact that I have brown eyes...is that a shame, too?
I realize I might be overly sensitive here, but I find these comments overtly offensive. Somehow, people have put a premium on blue eyes as though they are the be all that ends all. I get the same comments about Samara's straight hair: 'It won't stay straight? It'll curl? What a pity!' Ya know, Shirley Temple made loads off her curls, and Van Morrison didn't sing about his 'blue-eyed girl'. When did these features become so undesirable? I can't help but feel that there is a subtle racial component underpinning all this...after all, there's only one ethnic group that consistently exhibits blue eyes and straight hair. So...if my children bear more of my traits than those of their Anglo father, then that's 'a pity'? What is the unspoken implication there? That my genetic contribution is inferior?
Scientific understanding of eye color has increased and evolved in recent years. The previous understanding was that eye color was determined by single dominant and recessive alleles at a single locus, aka--a person with blue eyes would have to have two recessive alleles for blue eyes, but a person with brown eyes could either have two dominant allele for brown eyes, or one recessive blue and one dominant brown. It's been determined, however, that eye color is much more complex, involving many alleles at several loci. Bottom line, just because I have brown eyes and likely have passed a dominant brown allele to my baby, there is still a chance she could keep her blue eyes. Personally, I find the science behind this much more interesting than how she looks with whatever eye color. Having said that, I would love for her to have blue eyes like her dad. I would also be thrilled if she ends up with brown eyes like her mama. Or maybe she'll fool all of us and end up with grey, green or amber eyes.
Whatever her final eye color, she'll always be my beautiful girl, and there's no pity or shame in that.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Snippets...on character
Heard recently: I've realized that it's easy to feel sorry for someone when they're going through a hard time, but it's harder to feel happy for them when they're doing well, especially if they're doing better than you.
Snippets...on cookie nostalgia
After much testing and re-testing, my findings suggest that vanilla Oreos are simply a modern-day version of Vienna Fingers. Swap the oblong for the round, and there you go...New (but really the same) cookie.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Made By Hand
We've gotten so many wonderful gifts for our new little girl, and I've been remiss in writing up all the necessary thank you cards. But in the meanwhile, I thought I'd post some pix of the really incredible handmade hats, blankets and quilts that family and friends have made and sent along. It was great fun posing Samara in different positions to capture just the right look as she sported her new gear. Thanks to Meghan, Miss Linda, Shelie and Tyuana for the lovely baby wares. We love them! And special thanks to Miss Linda for including a special extra something for our dear Bryony...she already carries it around her shoulders during our evening tv time...
Aunt Tyuana made hats in blue, green and pink, since we didn't know what gender baby was going to be. But...we're a family with no gender color boundaries, so we love all three!
Our friend Meghan is a wonder on the sewing machine, and knows how much this mama loves nature and the outdoors. She combined her gift with my passion, and made Samara this lovely baby blanket. We all love the woodland animals!
Miss Linda, our favorite librarian, is a master quilter and so thoughtfully made this lovely baby quilt for Samara. We love the soft, whimsical print on the one side, and the funky bold print on the other!
And, because she's Miss Linda, she didn't forget the first Mittman girl she knew. Bryony adores this big-girl quilt that was waiting in the parcel for her, too. <3 br="">
Our former midwife Shelie is an avid (and talented) knitter, and immediately contacted me to let me know she'd be passing along one of her famous hats. Although she waited til baby was born (and gender revealed) to knit the hat, she pleased this mama's heart by avoiding the compulsory pink for more neutral colors. Love, love, love!
Aunt Tyuana made hats in blue, green and pink, since we didn't know what gender baby was going to be. But...we're a family with no gender color boundaries, so we love all three!
Even Bryony decided to try out the green one
Our friend Meghan is a wonder on the sewing machine, and knows how much this mama loves nature and the outdoors. She combined her gift with my passion, and made Samara this lovely baby blanket. We all love the woodland animals!
Miss Linda, our favorite librarian, is a master quilter and so thoughtfully made this lovely baby quilt for Samara. We love the soft, whimsical print on the one side, and the funky bold print on the other!
And, because she's Miss Linda, she didn't forget the first Mittman girl she knew. Bryony adores this big-girl quilt that was waiting in the parcel for her, too. <3 br="">
Our former midwife Shelie is an avid (and talented) knitter, and immediately contacted me to let me know she'd be passing along one of her famous hats. Although she waited til baby was born (and gender revealed) to knit the hat, she pleased this mama's heart by avoiding the compulsory pink for more neutral colors. Love, love, love!
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