The Difference of an Hour

October 31, 2006

I think we can all agree that in the 21st century, Daylight Saving time has nothing to do with benefitting the farmers. The official word from congress is something about saving energy by giving us an extra hour in the summers before we have to turn the lights on. The funny thing is, Americans make the most of Daylight Saving by driving, thus making moot the issue of conserving energy. The beneficiaries of Daylight Saving Time are not the consumers who are saving on their energy bills, but the oil companies, the malls, and the restaurants. And next year we can add the candy industry to the list as the “fall back” switch will come a week later to allow for an extra hour of trick or treating.

I didn’t have strong opinions of Daylight Saving Time until I became a parent. Before then I thought “spring forward” was bearable because I usually had spring fever, and “fall back” was appropriately timed for the season that made me want to stay in my warm bed for an extra hour every night. Changing the clocks twice a year is havoc on little children which translates as cruel and unusual punishment to the parents.

It took me several months to train Little Red to sleep until 6:30. All of that was blasted to pieces this weekend.

If you need to find me, look for me at 5 am, but don’t expect me to be lucid.


Random Friday (cheers and jeers)

October 27, 2006

CHEERS: I’ve finally reached the point in my pregnancy where I’m only waking once or twice to go to the washroom in the middle of the night. This is a major improvement from the previous four months and feels so luxurious.
JEERS: Pregnant dreams are always so surreal; I could really do without the parade of ex-boyfriends.


CHEERS: I’ve almost finished Little Red’s monkey costume (not a moment too soon — we have a party tomorrow!)
JEERS: I really hate the way the headpiece is looking. I’m not a tailor or a seamstress so the only way I could shape it was by following the type of ballcaps. I think the seams really stand out and I’m really close to just making ears (which I haven’t made yet) and sticking them to a headband.


CHEERS: I have some fabulous friends who, while babysitting Little Red, have taken him out for excursions.
JEERS: I miss spending time with my fabulous friends!


CHEERS: The Tigers are in the World Series!
JEERS: They’re down 3-1; if they can’t pull through tonight they’re out.

World Series Fever

October 26, 2006

My love of baseball has been very slow in coming. It didn’t flourish with of years of playing kickball on the playground and it didn’t even really begin when my first American boyfriend would consider a Mariners’ win “a good omen.” (Yet when the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup I said to my husband “that’s a good omen” and was right.”) It was living in Los Angeles that finally got me interested.

I’ll admit that I was bored at the first few Dodgers games I attended, but I agreed with my husband that at least it was better than suffering through a game on tv. I grew to like the games because we always brought friends — and I liked having a stretch of time to just sit and chat with a girlfriend. The World Series that year, 2004, was an exciting one with the Yankees and the Red Sox. I still couldn’t watch the games but I did get involved in my husband’s excitement and I cheered when he cheered.

The next season was more exciting. We had several opportunities to use our friend’s season tickets and with Little Red in tow I got more involved. The ambiance at a game is a lot of fun and I really enjoyed getting my little guy excited. We learned very quickly that while bedtime was the one sacred part of his otherwise very loose routine, we were only allowed to ditch bedtime for a Dodgers game. Little Red’s first game was when he was only four months old and he’ll be two years old next month. It’s amazing for me to think of how far we’ve both come. Today we turned on the game before my husband even came home from work.

Of course this World Series is extra exciting because the Tigers are playing. It’s exciting like the 2004 series because it’s been a while since the Tigers have been in the series, but it’s more exciting because this is the team my husband has watched since he was a little boy.

I think the most fun about the game is watching the excitement on the boys’ faces. But I am learning to follow the game and now I can cheer without waiting for Paul to cheer first.

My nephew, Ian, who lives in San Diego, went through a spell of only wanting “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” as his bedtime song. One night my brother-in-law was putting him to bed instead of my sister-in-law, and he sang, “Root – Root – Root for the Tigers” to which Ian, very upset, interrupted, “no Dad, not Tigers, Padres!” As a result my husband has ensured that Little Red can say “Go Tigers!” as well as “Go Dodgers!” and supports each team equally.

To B(log) or Not To B(log)

October 18, 2006

I’ve really been torn about blogging my week. I feel like most of my blogging lately has been negative or depressing and surely anything I write this week will be more of the same. Yesterday’s events, I’ve concluded, are blog-worthy inasmuch that they marked many firsts for me.

No Water

I sat in a chair at the administrative desk in the middle of the ER, waiting for my room, 2B, to be cleaned. Life was bustling around, and I didn’t know where Paul and Little Red were, as I hadn’t been able to speak with them since they dropped me off and went to park. Pregnant women don’t wait around in the waiting room. My nurse told me the room would just take a minute, and asked if, while we waited, I could give her a urine sample.

I lost it.

Consumed in tears I told her there was no liquid in my body. How could I possible give her a sample of nothing? Of course there was liquid in my body — my eyes had made a liar out of me. My body had completely let me down; while most of me was desperate for liquid my stomach rejected any form and yet my eyes had kept their secret stash, away from the rest of my body, to prove me wrong when I said I was dry, and to punctuate my emotions.

A Torture Table Would Have Been More Comfortable

Before Little Red’s illustrious trips to the ER I had never been past the waiting room. Before yesterday I had never been for myself. When there for someone else I was able to ignore the lack of comfort in such a utilitarian place. When there for me, sleep-deprived, sick, and dehydrated, I noticed it all. The angle of the bed was all wrong. The built-in pillow was barbaric. If I rolled to my right or moved my arm in a certain way I’d stop receiving the life-giving fluids from my IV. If I rolled to the left what would it to do my blood-pressure monitor and would it send people running? If I just stayed still everything would work as it should, but I would not sleep. I finally gained the lucidity to ask for a pillow, which helped mildly, and gave up being so concerned about all the wires and machines to which I was connected. Did I get tangled? Most certainly. Did I interfere with the proper working of the wires? After three hours I still had not drained the second bag of fluids.

The Vicious Cycle

I’m not sure what set me off in the middle of the night. It could have just been the hormones. It could have been a wiff of something, after all, the cat peed on our door again and we combated it with some heavy chemicals. Either smell could have put me over the edge. It could have been something I ate, although the boys don’t seem to be sick. It could have been viral. Once we got home I was looking for the phone number of the Tuesday babysitter to tell her I wouldn’t need her while we played back the messages to find out that she and her baby had also been sick all morning.

Whatever started it we’ll never know. In the end, when each episode happened with fascist precision every half hour, it was purely because I was dehydrated. Apparently it takes that long for the stomach acids, once eliminated, to replenish the stomach. And by the way, did you know they are green?

The Wrong Solution

On Monday I was lamenting that I was gaining weight at a much higher rate with this pregnancy than I had with Little Red. Somehow, bulimia was not exactly the solution that came to mind!


October 15, 2006

For about a month, I was determined to “do the math” and prove that if we followed the lunar calendar we should have an extra hour in every day. It was based on some passing theory I had heard, that had been proved by someone I’d never met, and it was during a time when I believed all that “you can do anything you want” rhetoric and understood in a non-arrogant way that I was the only hindrance to my own intellect.

I knew that no matter what my findings, it wouldn’t actually change anything in the real world, but I somehow felt that it would give me comfort. I thought that if our circadian rhythms (which had already been provenb and was widely accepted) and the rotation of the moon both tended toward a longer day then I would feel less frustration over not being able to fit everything into our unnaturally short days. I would feel justified in my decisions to study on Friday nights and on through Saturdays when my roommates were watching movies, sleeping in, and playing. I would feel validated in my fatigue.

In the end, I never got beyond the philosophical conception. I couldn’t find the time. (And now, less idealistic and more tired, I no longer care.)

The Happy Little Nudist

October 8, 2006

He’s been working on it for a long time, but finally mid-week Little Red perfected the art of removing his own pants. The pants were the only obstacle that kept him from removing his diaper, so I’m sure you all know what follows. I think a little free-range time is healthy for diapered babies but I’m still not a big fan of the free-range accidents that often accompany. And I don’t like chasing around the house trying to find his pants. (The funniest was when he had left his pants and diaper on the floor in our bathroom beside Paul’s pyjamas, closed the bathroom door behind him, closed the bedroom door, and came downstairs. –It took me forever to find those pants!)

He can also take off his t-shirts by pulling them down and stretching out the necks. I believe that displeases me even more.

Strange Chemical Brew

October 5, 2006

Everything about today was a replica of the previous Thursdays — very much the same as any morning without work looming over my afternoon. As Little Red and I cuddled on my bed for our nap it didn’t even occur to me to consider how normal the day was. I opened the upstairs windows to let in some fall breeze which was turning out to be warmer than forcasted, but still pleasant enough for outside air instead of a/c. The drone of the cars on the freeway provided a hypnotic backdrop for our dreams.

There was something hidden in the air today. As it wafted in through the closed blinds and over the two of us it carried melatonin. Without warning, without being more tired than usual or having worked harder in the morning, we slept away most of the afternoon. Everytime I awoke I quickly drifted off, unlike any other nap when I’m usually awake until bedtime. It took me three different tries of willing myself to stay awake to make me rise.

I don’t know for sure that it was melatonin, and I’ll be honest and admit that my mind is still somewhere in that last dream, but -wow- what a satisfying nap!