solids

Mom wrote a note in my baby book, saying I had my first solid food (rice cereal) at 2 months old.  I can't quite imagine what my daughter's doctor would say about this, since the "recommended" age now is 4-6 months, and she told us at Annalise's 4-month appointment that we could hold off if we weren't comfortable yet.

Well, comfortable or not, Annalise started grabbing french fries a few weeks ago, and munched on a stolen Wheat Thin yesterday.  We had decided to hold off until we could buy a high chair, which we did before heading out to the Republican state convention last week.  Today, Annalise tried "solid" baby food - basically whole grain cereal with apples.  She loved it, I'm happy to report.

Annalise after her first few bites of "real" food

It does amaze me, the difference in opinions about what is "right" for babies over time.  In truth, I was pretty against the idea of rice cereal at all, because the only reason it has become a traditional first solid is because of allergy fears.  I have met women who think it's literally the only food you can feed a baby at this age, which is just not true.  This weekend I'm breaking out the Baby Bullet my best friend got us and I'll puree bananas for Annalise to try next.  The way she gummed that Wheat Thin yesterday really had me thinking about what expectations we have about children, versus the anecdotes we always hear - my brother, for instance, was one of those kids who skipped purees altogether (and these days that's an actual trend).  I'm not going to hold back with Annalise.  If she's ready for something, she'll let us know.  This has been our way of doing things for awhile now, and all the guilt I felt when one of the "book methods" didn't work for us fled.   And my daughter is thriving to boot.

It would be wonderful to have Mom's opinion on all of this.  She had four of us, after all, and experienced a wide range of tastes, habits, and "firsts."  Thankfully, she wrote some of it down in my baby book - and I try to do the same for Annalise.

mother's day

Four years ago today, I had the most memorable phone conversation I ever experienced with my mother.  I had called her to wish her a happy Mother's Day.  Our conversation was short, maybe ten minutes long.  I did most of the talking.  When she spoke, I couldn't understand her.  I turned up the volume, I asked her to repeat herself, I wondered for a minute if my hearing was bad.  When we hung up, I looked over at my husband and said, "I think something is wrong with Mom."

That was the day that the months, probably years, of subtle signs of her illness became glaring.  Mom's speech was slurred and thick.  I remember telling Randy that I thought she sounded drunk, and that was absurd, because she didn't really drink, and it was midday besides.  As the day wore on, the dread sunk in, became fear.  Before the week was out, I had emailed my dad to tell him I thought she might have ALS.  She had a doctor's appointment coming up and I wanted to make sure someone told the doctor this.  Because you know, there is no test for it.  There's just elimination.  They test you for cancer, for thyroid disease, heart disease, for obscure nerve illnesses.  Mom's official diagnosis happened in September 2008.  But the day that sticks in my heart is Mother's Day.

I can't help feeling that this day is always going to be haunted.  But when Randy brought Annalise into our room this morning to wake me up, her dimples and giggle put things right.  I won't pretend today wasn't bittersweet, because it was.  My little girl, though, gave me a day to remember that balances that terrible moment.

All I can tell you today is to hug your mom.  Call her.  Listen to her voice.  I promise it won't be a wasted moment.  I used to think such pleas and reminders were terribly cliche - and maybe they are, but there are so many of us who can't call our mothers today.

Also, fittingly, May is ALS Awareness Month.  Take a moment to find out what this disease is and what it has done to too many families.

Finally - Mom and me, in 1981.

sugar substitute

In the last few weeks, I've been getting text messages from my brother, who is finding out what it's like to have to cook for himself (or, for him and our sister Katie) on a regular basis.  To call this monumental would not be an overstatement, believe me.

Tonight's revelation was that they intend to make "Mom's cookies" sometime in the near future.  Cookies are a treat, though they were certainly a staple when I was growing up - Mom's Cookie Monster cookie jar was usually full.  My mother's cookies were world-famous - meaning that our extended family always requested them at holidays, and friends raided the cookie jar whenever they could.  Everyone wanted her recipe, and she would smirk a little when revealing that it was just the Toll House recipe, made with the sugar substitute fructose.  She also used butter-flavored Crisco, a habit I think developed from that WWII rationing mentality that her mother undoubtedly had in spades (take a look sometime at the housewife cookbooks of the era - shortening is in everything!).

I started making Mom's cookies when I was still in college; I considered it one of those passages to adulthood to be able to make my own chocolate chip cookies.  I have altered Mom's method a bit, too. I stopped using fructose in cookies when I couldn't find it in the stores any longer, and opted for various sugar substitutes over time.   One thing I can caution is never to use Splenda for baking, it just tastes so much different; I like baking with Truvia.  I also always use real butter.  I'm more likely to make "cookie cake" (the pan cookie variation on the back of your Toll House chocolate chip bag) and for that I use real sugar like Mom did.  For chemical reasons unknown, sugar substitutes don't work as well in the pan cookies.

When Joe sent tonight's text about the cookies, I was tempted to launch into this explanation for him.  I did tell him I use a different sugar substitute than Mom did, and he laughed at me and said that was blasphemy.  I smiled.  He'll figure it out, or he won't.  Mom's traditions and habits worked for her at the time she was doing them - not all of them work for us, or should.  And we can invoke the same flavor with just a little tweak, maybe even improve on it.  Change can be a good thing, I want to tell him.  But I do understand.    How many bowls of cookie dough did we lick clean, how many times did we sit in the kitchen while she stirred, how many chocolate chips did we poach from the open bags?  Making Mom's cookies is like inviting her back into the room.

In the end, there really isn't a substitute for that.

Life, with a newborn

Life with a newborn is a lot like everyone says.  Lots of sleepless nights, for instance.  But in other ways, life with a newborn is just that:  life, with a newborn.

Annalise will be two months old on March 3 (yes, time flies!) and I've spent all of February trying to navigate the waters of "returning" to the world.  I work from home, a huge blessing that presents a special set of obstacles.  When I'm working, I'm still actively taking care of the baby.  She's not at a day care or staying with someone else for a few hours.  Often, she's in my lap or propped up in the Boppy next to me on the couch.  I'm interrupted mid-sentence to feed her, change her diaper, soothe her from hiccups.  My work day gets started when she goes down for an afternoon nap, or it happens at 2am when I'm too wound up and she's too hungry for either of us to sleep.  So, what is life, with a newborn?  It's being a multi-tasker and jack-of-all-trades.

In some ways, I think moms who leave home to work are a bit wiser than those of us who work from home (as opposed to "stay at home").  My attention is divided the entire day.  I'm breastfeeding my daughter in the morning while I read newsclips and listen to talk radio to get an idea of what I might write about that day.  I'm editing blog posts and doing site administration while singing "Rubber Duckie" and "Monster in the Mirror."

My mother made a conscious decision to stay at home when I was born.  She left the Navy for me.  I think my decision to work from home is similar to her decision.  Financially, Mom always told me she basically made enough to pay for child care - which meant working was financially detrimental, since it would have added nothing of real value.  I'm in a position where I need to be making money, but like Mom, would be making enough outside the home to pay for child care and little else.  And I choose this lifestyle because it benefits my daughter the most of my current options - same as Mom.

Some people have given me odd looks when I tell them I'm still involved politically, too.  I was back on that horse as soon as I could be.  Why, exactly?  I have a kid now, surely I don't need to be "distracted" by politics!  I have a long-winded version of this in me, but the short version is, whenever I look at Annalise, my commitment to making the world a better place for her is renewed tenfold.  Now I have a buy-in with the future.  Now it's real.

Life, with a newborn.  It's just like it was before, only more so.

Five weeks