August 5, 2009
Family Fun
Harriet can’t wait to learn to read so that she can join in the family fun.
July 29, 2009
Two months
On Sunday we celebrated two months of Harriet being born, of me being a mom, and of ours being a family of three. And even a month ago, I could not have forecast how full and rich life would become again, so I’m so proud of how well we’re all doing. Of course, chaos reigns, but it’s at a level I can live with comfortably. One qualm being that I am not managing to read nearly as much as I’d like to be, and yet I keep buying books/requesting books at the library at much the same pace as ever, and it’s a little overwhelming. Unless board books count– my favourite is On The Day You Were Born by Debra Frasier. “On the day you were born/ gravity’s strong pull/ held you to the Earth/ with a promise that you/ would never float away…”
July 19, 2009
Something Amazing
Something amazing happened during these last couple of weeks, as our baby girl began a transformation from rage incarnate into an actual person. What is even more amazing, however, is the way in which her parents have actually begun to figure out how she works, what she needs, how to respond to her, and keep her happy for as long as possible (which is sometimes up to an hour or two). And watching her explore to the world now is absolutely one of the most fascinating experiences I’ve ever had, and I really can’t get enough of it. Baby can get enough of it, however, and at this moment, due to having been horribly overtired to the point of hysteria, Harriet is comfortably asleep in her swing. For now…
And so today is a good time for me to start reading The Scientist in the Crib (as recommended by Steph at Crooked House). I am looking forward to a book about babies that does not purport to be a “guide”, except perhaps one to understanding. And, of course, because man cannot subsist on non-fiction alone, I’m also reading my former classmate Lauren Kirshner‘s novel Where We Have to Go, which fits in well with all the rest if I regard it as a parenting anti-guide.
The best news is that I own a computer again, and so this week’s project is a little life here at Pickle Me This. Though I really can’t be held to anything these days at all.
July 13, 2009
Relearning
Harriet is seven weeks tomorrow, and some semblance of regular life has returned to us. We spent our weekend doing things we would have done without her– Saturday bbq at friends’ house, Sunday brunch and ice cream. All modified somewhat, of course, by her presence (i.e. brunch at mid-afternoon), but definitely doable, and it’s wonderful. It’s as though since she’s been born, I’ve had to relearn how to live in the world, because it’s so different now, but we’re really beginning to figure it out. Which is made very easy by Harriet’s firm understanding of nighttime. She gets up once to eat, but otherwise we keep very civilized hours, and are all the better for it. She’s a good baby, albeit a quite serious and/or grumpy one– we’ve seen a few smiles, but they’ve been all too fleeting. And she only ever laughs when she’s asleep, but really, I’ll take any laughs at all.
July 8, 2009
Harriet joins the library
Yesterday, at the tender age of six weeks, Harriet became a card-carrying member of the Toronto Public Library. She slept through the ceremony, but did seem to enjoy reading Eco Babies Are Green last evening, and seemed incredibly impressed and grateful when I explained to her how lucky we are to live in a city whose fantastic library resources are available to everybody for free. She also liked the Raffi CD we borrowed (and did you know that he is Victoria College’s most illustrious drop-out?).
July 7, 2009
The Wedding
Harriet is in the midst of her six weeks’ growth spurt, which means that she’s permanently attached to me, who’s attached to the couch or bed most of the time, and so it goes. Luckily temporary. We’re actually doing very well here, enjoying support from lactation consultants in particular! And things are not as dire as my previous post suggested– that was early days, and week by week, life has been exponentially better. This weekend was a particularly large milestone, as we attended my best friend Jennie’s wedding. It was just a modest do, with a 500+ guest list. We’d been a wee bit terrified at the prospect with such a little baby, but baby behaved better than she ever had in her whole life (and since), spending most of the weekend eating, sleeping and being adorable. With her daddy’s support, I was able to pull off most of my bridesmaidly duties, and moreover had an enormous amount of fun. It was great to be away from home, to drive again, to stay in a hotel and feed baby in odd places– makes everything else seem so much more possible. And the wedding was really a spectacular event. As I’m between computers at the mo, I can’t upload my own photos, but I stole this one from my friend Britt’s Facebook– in spite of our outfits, we Bridesmaids did stand out a bit at this Sikh wedding, but really, check out the bride. She was so incredibly beautiful, gracious, and radiant, and she had her new husband absolutely belong together. I’m thrilled for them, and for me who got to be there.
New computer should arrive this week or next, and I expect regularish posting will resume then.
June 19, 2009
Flowers in the window
It was four years ago today that I married my husband and started out on this rather mad journey that has been us as a family. And now we are three! And however terrifying and awful the past month has been very very often, the moments of absolute delight have been sparkling and they’re really all that I’ll remember of it anyway. Stuart’s love and support has been unwavering, his patience infinite, and I couldn’t imagine what this all would have been like without him. He’s as good a daddy as he is a husband, which is certainly something. Harriet and I are a lucky pair, and we love him very much.
From the song we danced to at our wedding, which I heard for the very first time one sunny morning two days after we first met, when I just knew….:
There is no reason to feel bad,
But there are many seasons to feel glad, sad, mad.
It’s just a bunch of feelings that we have to hold,
But I am here to help you with the load.
Wow, look at you now, flowers in the window
It’s such a lovely day and I’m glad that you feel the same.
‘Cause to stand up, out in the crowd.
You are one in a million and I love you so,
lets watch the flowers grow.
June 17, 2009
Seen Reading
Seated at a table on the patio of Sweet Fantasies Ice Cream at the corner of Bloor Street and Brunswick Avenue, brown-haired woman in non-maternity clothes (but only those purchased around 2003 when she was a bit fat, but non-maternity nonetheless), three weeks post-partum with her baby asleep in the carrier on her chest. She is rereading Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner, which isn’t much of an intellectual pursuit but it’s enjoyable, and she’s eating a cookies and cream ice-cream cone. The sun is shining and has kissed her cheeks, it’s been days upon days since the last time she cried with despair, and we’ve come such a long way since this all started.
June 15, 2009
The Name Game
We got a cat when I was fourteen, and as I was the oldest and precocious, I decided I would name it. I named it Socks first, I think, after the White House cat (naturally). But then seeing as our cat didn’t have socks, I decided to name it Tim Johnson instead, which was the name of the dog in To Kill A Mockingbird, and I liked the idea of pets with surnames. But that was stupid, so I changed the cat’s name to Daisy, and I can’t remember why. Then we found out that Daisy was a Tom, so I decided she would be called Casey (at the bat?). And then when I decided to change the cat’s name next, my family called it off and Casey the cat stayed, though I never called it that. I always called it Cat, because I’d seen Breakfast at Tiffanys, and wanted to go Golightly.
So this was why I was apprehensive about naming my child. Though I’ve always found names fascinating and entrancing, I’m fickle about them. In many ways, cats and children are different creatures (so I’ve found of late), and you can only change a daughter’s name so many times if you must do it at all. How to pick a name that would stick?
The first name I ever loved was “Julie”, after Mackenzie Phillips’ character on One Day at a Time. Julie was also my best friend in grade one, and I adored her and she beautiful, though she was sensitive about her hairy arms. I went through an “Ellen” phase, after the character on Family Ties, I think. I watched far too much television; I would have died to have been named “Jo”. I fell in love with “Bianca”, not from Shakespeare, but from Shelley Long’s character’s sister in the movie Hello Again. I was particularly impressionable, and agreed that “Cordelia” was the most exquisite name imaginable. I loved the name “Zoe” for a while, and after I read Louise Fitzhugh’s The Long Secret, I thought “Zeeney” was similarly cool, though she’d not been the most appetizing of characters. And these name fixations would go on and on, influenced by all kinds of sitcoms, films and pop stars. I kept ever-changing lists of what my future daughters would be called, though it never occurred to me to think much about a son.
Strange that Louise Fitzhugh ultimately did decide my child’s name. Baby was not to be Zeeney after all (which is good) but Harriet, after the book from which The Long Secret was a sequel. And I’d never read Harriet the Spy until last year, actually, after I heard this feature on NPR. But I fell in love with Ms. Welsch, and her name topped my list. I knew immediately that I wanted a little Harriet of my own one day. I couldn’t think of anyone better to be named after– such a feisty, clever, independent, hilarious, and wonderful character. Impossible too, which strikes me now as a somewhat fortunate/unfortunate quality to project upon one’s child. Perhaps I should have thought it through a little bit more, because this baby fits the bill so far. The name itself means “Home Ruler”, which is appropriate, I think. So this is what we’ve got ourselves in for…
But it sticks. It’s belonged to her since the moment we saw her, and I do love that we now know someone with this name– have a Harriet in our family even! It is a ubiquitous name throughout literature, but all too rare in the real world. I think I’ll not stop loving it soon, because it’s Harriet’s name after all.
Though I do wonder whether she’ll thank us for it. If she’ll find Harriet M. Welsch as charming as I did. It is a tremendous power, isn’t it? Naming a person? Even fictionally, the name is such a determinate and the author certainly bestows innumerable qualities by such a fact. Naming a real person requires as much consideration– this is destiny. I find it strange that we were handed so much power. At the hospital they asked us her name, we told them, and it was that simple. I would have expected some kind of seminar, or at the very least a lecture (a stern one) about the seriousness of the decision we were about to make based on a 1960s children’s novel. Is nothing sacred? Apparently not, but we’re three weeks in, and at the very least, I’ve not wanted to change it yet.
