Graceful Parenting in Austin

Tracy Hogg was a Mom who has raised her own babies and who had spent time a great deal of time in people’s homes, with parents and their babies, helping them find solutions to difficult problems. Ahh, this is nice. I’m not saying there isn’t a lot to be learned about babies from male pediatricians (William Sears) and ministers (Gary Ezzo), but what do for a crying baby at 3am isn’t a medical question or a spiritual one. I feel more connected to the ideas and experiences of a woman who has been the one getting out of bed.

There are a lot of common themes between them all, though. I think if William Sears and Gary Ezzo hooked up and through the miracle of modern reproductive technology had a baby girl, she might be Tracy Hogg…

I was a little unsure of myself and how I would handle the whole baby thing. Noel is my step-daughter, when I married Blue Eyes, she was six, so I don’t have any previous baby experience. Would I know if she was tired or hungry by her cries? Would I be able to read her expressions and movements? What if she was bright eyed and sucking her thumb, is she awake or tired? Would I have the intuition and feelings that would help me know what to do?

I had my answer last night, when the family was in line at Amy’s Ice Cream…

(By the way, I love living in Austin where it isn’t unusual for the family to go for ice cream in February. I also love Amy’s Ice Cream.)

Baby Girl was in her Baby Bjorn, facing forward. I like carrying her this way, she likes to see what is going on and I can kiss her head and rub her feet. But I can’t see her face and I miss that. I think sometimes about getting a little rear-view bicycle mirror I can strap to her head, so I don’t miss out on her smiles.

I see her right arm lift up and then come back down and I think, that looks like a tired arm. Just that one little movement, with no facial expression to help me out, and I knew. Soon after, she was rubbing her eyes. She was tired for sure.

We were home not long after that and I was feeding Baby Girl her night time bottle. It feels good to hold her and to know that we know how to talk to each other. I wonder if she can read my cues too, like when I give her lots of kisses or sing to her, does she know I’m saying ‘I love you?’ I think she does.

I was dealing with family administrative business yesterday, you know, my favorite part of being a Mom. We have two bills for two separate accounts to the same insurance company. I was having trouble in my on-line banking software saving two payees with all of the same information except the account number. I saw the customer service number right there with the error message, so I gave it a call and you won’t believe what happened…

A person answered. Right away. No automated system with lots of questions. No waiting on hold. No entering in my account number, just to be asked for it again when the representative answers.

I was unsure what to say to this person. I didn’t know which number I should press. I wasn’t sure of all the options. I hesitated.

Remember when answering machines first came out and it was so awkward to figure out what to say to a machine? Well, I have come all the way around now, because I was awkward trying to figure out what to say to a real live person.

I finally got it together and said ‘hello.’ Then I told him that I couldn’t believe he was real. Finally I explained the problem I was having. He said he understood, but he would have to put me on hold for a minute. So I waited.

I waited about ten seconds, then he was back. He said, yes, the system isn’t able to save two payees that are exactly the same except for the account number. Since the payee names can’t be edited, he recommended creating two new payees with slightly different names. He said he would wait on the line while I do this, to be sure it works.

Back in my software consulting days, I worked on a project for a banking call center where customer interaction was very efficient, with each representative handling tons calls made as short as possible, while being careful to not get caught visiting with the older people who were lonely. But this guy was hanging out patiently while I typed in all the information twice. We chatted about where his was located (San Antonio, Texas) and what the weather was like (the same for both of us, in the eighties!). The two payees saved fine. I told him I loved him. Well, not LOVE, but something like it. Why can’t customer service always be this way?

In case you are wondering, bank is Frost Bank, a regional Texas bank…

with a cool building in downtown Austin…

and a pretty loyal customer.

I do the laundry in our house and I take pride in, you know, sorting well, fighting stains and managing to get it all done fast enough so we all stay dressed. So, today, Baby Girl isn’t feeling well. Noel and I are sitting on the couch and Baby Girl is on Noel’s lap. I’m folding the laundry, making piles on the floor. All the clothes have been washed and dried, it’s feeling good to be almost done, just a few pieces left to fold when….

Baby Girl throws up. I don’t mean a little spit-up, I mean real throw-up, projectile-style, in multiple directions, of all her carrots from lunch.

Now, I know Baby Girl is all right. She was at the doctor just this morning, she is a little sick but will be back to her old self soon.

I’m not sure I’m all right, though. Bright orange carrots got on all of Noel’s clothes and my sweatshirt. And on the couch and the carpet. And little splatters of carrots got all over the clean clothes. Then there were the clean wash cloths that never made it to the cabinet that I used to clean up the mess. So, instead of me setting a record today for the quickest cleaning of the clothes, Baby Girl set a record for the quickest dirtying of the clothes. I always knew she was talented. I can’t wait to see what she’ll come up with next.

Yesterday I flew to Colorado and back. I can’t say why because not everything is meant to be shared on a blog. I said something the other day about doing things I don’t usually do making for an interesting day and yesterday was definitely interesting.

It’s pretty easy to pack when you aren’t staying overnight and I thought I had packed well. A carry-on bag for my laptop and a change of clothes, just in case. A book I’m reviewing and a magazine for light reading. My iPod with new music and sunglasses. A coat and hat. (I had to look for the hat, because I don’t wear it in Texas where it has been in the 70s in the afternoons for weeks.) I wore comfortable jeans, a black sweater and my socks and sandals.

The socks and sandals seemed like a good idea at the time. I’ve had a lot of trouble with my toe, mostly because it gets gooey and the bandage sticks, which is equally disgusting and painful. But my new plan has worked well. After I take a shower, I don’t bandage it right away, I let it get some air first and I don’t wear shoes. No shoes ever. Not pressure on the toe. This is very important. No matter how funny my socks and sandals look.

But as I was waiting to board my flight to Denver, I was looking at my sandals and they made me laugh. I looked around at the other passengers and they were wearing big, tough, outdoor shoes for hiking in the snow and climbing mountains. An older man in the row across from me was smiling at me. I’m pretty sure it was because of my socks and sandals.

But then I began to worry that my feet might freeze. I had thought about my big toe, but not about maybe loosing all my toes. Last time I was in Denver I was wearing real shoes and my feet were so freezing cold I stopped in a store in the middle of the tour to buy some skiing socks and my feet still froze. I might make the news. Woman gets frostbite wearing sandals in Denver in February. Everyone wonders, “What in the world was she thinking?”

It was a good flight and there was good news when I arrived, the weather was amazing. No snow. Sunny skies. Not very cold. I might have been a fashion disaster, but at least not a medical one. I picked up my rental car and wondered about the economics of travel. I got a great deal on the flight, only $175 on Frontier Airlines, but the car is costing me $100. It’s so strange that the car and the plane cost about the same.

It wasn’t a very scenic drive. There were no mountains. There were lots of huge apartment complexes that all look pretty much the same, in different shades of brown and tan. Then there were clusters of the modern homes, you know the ones, 2-stories, boxy and close together, with variations on a few floor plans for the neighborhood, all painted different shades of the same color. I wonder if I had just bought my house, if I would remember which one was mine.

I arrived at my destination two hours early, which is a good idea, if you are traveling 1000 miles to get there. I drove a major street looking for a place to have a coffee and write. Normally, I like the Mom-n-Pop coffee shops with the cushy couches and unusual music, but a Starbucks would be all right. I drove for MILES and didn’t see one. I couldn’t believe it. I thought I must be very far from home. But then I needed to go to the bathroom, so I pulled into a Target and then I saw the sign, there was a Starbucks inside. Ah, I wasn’t too far from home. But they didn’t have wireless Internet. Even the Dairy Queen in Austin has wireless Internet. I asked about this and the barista said the Starbucks in the Safeway, 1 block north, has wireless and the stand-alone Starbucks, 2 blocks north, has wireless and more comfortable chairs. No, I wasn’t too far from home.

I leave and my key doesn’t work for my rental car, then I notice it isn’t my rental car so I try all the small, white cars in that row and find it. I remember the time when I first started traveling for work when I left the airport in my rental car and stopped for an errand. When I get out of the store I realized I have no idea what kind of car I rented. I didn’t remember the make or model or color. Then there was the time I remembered the name, but not the location, of the parking garage in downtown Chicago where I parked, only to find that it was a parking garage chain with dozens of locations downtown. That sucked too. (I really should stop sharing this kind of story.)

My morning meetings go fine, so now I’m ready for lunch. I ask the locals for suggestions and they tell me about the McDonald’s, Subway, KFC, Taco Bell, Chipolte and Chili’s. I asked if there was a place unique to Denver and they said well, not that they know of. Hmmm, kind of like the housing, in this part of the city anyway.

My afternoon is done and I’ve got some extra time so I do a little shopping, then I head for the airport and the sign for my exit comes quickly and I don’t have time to read it so I guess and I think I guessed right. I double check that I’m heading on 470 West, since I came in on 470 East, so all is looking well. Except that it just looks different. And there aren’t any toll booths. I double check the directions I used coming in, yep E470. I drive a little longer. I remember another time I was in Colorado on a one-day trip and I missed my connection on the way back and had to fly on multiple flights overnight to get in at 9am the next morning. I’m sure that wouldn’t happen again. (I guess I can’t stop sharing this kind of story.)

Then there are mountains on my left. There weren’t mountains on the way down. Mountains don’t lie. I turn around.

I had taken the wrong exit. The E470 that I came in on is not 470 going East, but the eastern part of the 470 loop heading North/South, which has a special name because it is a tollway. 470 West is the southern part of the 470 loop that is actually heading West, towards Golden, Colorado and away from the airport. Then it all made sense.

This made for a long drive to the airport. But I had some extra time, so all was well. The flight back was fine and I was glad to get back home. And I wonder about sharing the embarrassing traveling story. I run the risk of looking incompetent or silly. In my defense, I can say that I have traveled a lot and I tend to get where I’m going just fine, even in non-touristy foreign countries. But the few times I got totally lost or I did miss my plane, these are some of my favorite stories and I think if everything went as planned, traveling wouldn’t be as interesting, so I’ll take the risk and share the stories anyway.

I’m back in Texas this morning, it is about 65 degrees and muggy outside. Perfect weather for my socks and sandals.

“Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child” (Marc Weissbluth)

I reviewed Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child about a month ago and I said it was just all right. Well, hmmm, now that Baby Girl takes great naps and I can schedule lunch with my girlfriends, I would like to update that review to say, it is pretty good. Three stars our of four, if I had stars.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t take back what I said about him…

I still think he says ridiculous things that only a male pediatrician who hasn’t taken care of a baby himself would say. Like when he says don’t take a ride in the car when it isn’t near your baby’s nap time, because he might fall asleep in the car seat and not take a real nap later. Then he says don’t take a ride in the car when it is near your baby’s nap time, because he needs to fall asleep in his crib, not the car seat. And, of coarse, don’t wake your baby up to go for a ride in the car either. A Mom will tell you that this means there won’t be groceries in the house until your baby turns two.

A Mom will tell you the real story. A Mom on my Moms email list handles this by running errands when her baby has just been fed and is sleepy. Her baby stays asleep during the errand, getting a decent nap. I do it the opposite, I run errands when Baby Girl first wakes up and I carry her in a Baby Bjorn in the store, so if she does take a catnap in the car seat, it isn’t very long and she still takes her regular nap later on.

Since I wrote the original review, when Baby Girl wasn’t on a schedule yet, I made a little adjustment, feeding Baby Girl before she goes to sleep instead of when she wakes up and it all fell into place. The general times-of-day that Weissbluth recommends for naps work for Baby Girl. Doing awake-things when she wakes up and sleepy-things near her nap time works. She is more well rested and less fussy than before the schedule started to work. And since I know about when she’ll be sleeping, I’m able to plan lunch with my girlfriends again. So I feel it is only fair to revisit my original ‘it’s OK’ review and say ‘It’s pretty good. This book that really helped.’

See my Review Philosophy.

Every Mom thinks their baby is the cutest baby and there a lots of Moms who want their babies to be in print ads, commercials and the movies. But, I’m not that kind of Mom, I just want my baby to be happy. It is just a coincidence that my baby is the cutest baby. So, when I got the email about the local casting call for Pampers, Baby Girl and I decided to make an appearance.

That is, of coarse, only after some trouble at home…

I told Blue Eyes about our plans and joked that the chances for making the cut weren’t as good because it was a Mother and Baby print ad, and I’m not nearly as good looking as Baby Girl. And he agreed. Way too quickly. Then he went on to ask if the woman had to be the baby’s mother, because maybe Baby Girl’s aunt could go with her instead? I told him he had better just stop talking before he got in more trouble. Now, in his defense, I am not photogenic. I’m OK looking in person, but I’m awkward in front of the camera. But still…

I headed down to the Clarion Inn with a few girlfriends who also have babies. I felt like we were auditioning for American Idol. I figure the same number of people go to the original casting calls (hundreds of thousands) and the same number of people actually get discovered (maybe a dozen). But, I enjoy doing things I don’t usually do, it makes for a more interesting day, so there we were.

I’m not one of those competitive stage Moms, comparing her baby with all the others and getting gossipy about the other Moms. But, this one Mom was totally smoozing and asking to meet the casting director in person. Then there was a skinny baby. Now, this baby may be a super model when she grows up, but no way is there going to be a skinny baby in a diaper ad. Then there was a boy running around and he must have been four years old. Maybe three and a half. And I know there are three and four year olds who wear diapers and I’m not all judgmental about that, but diapers aren’t cute anymore when you baby is four. Maybe we will be discovered!

We filled out some paperwork and took off Baby Girl’s clothes, except for the diaper, of coarse. (I told Baby Girl that this kind of photo shoot would NOT be OK when she got older.) A photographer was taking pictures of all the Mom and Baby pairs. When I stepped in front of the camera, the clip that was holding up the backdrop came loose and it rolled onto the floor and it took a while for them to get it set back up. I was awkward in front of a camera and the photographer hadn’t even taken a picture yet. Then she takes a few shots and Baby Girl was cute, I’m sure. I tried to think non-awkward thoughts. I hope that didn’t make me look awkward.

I haven’t heard if we got a call back for the next step, which is a real photo shoot of lots of Mom and Baby pairs, some of which would actually get used in print ads (kind of like Hollywood, then the final 12). I’ll let you know what happens…

Blue Eyes wants to be sure that everyone knows that I know not to wear socks with sandals, so I thought I would share this picture and my explanation for the picture on my blog.

When I met Blue Eyes I didn’t dress very well. For some reason, I liked the colors and textures of the clothes at C.P. Shades, where the clothes were easy to match since they came in limited styles that were meant to go together. But, all the pants and skirts had elastic waists and the shirts were sort of tent-like, and I wasn’t a very big girl, so I was pretty swallowed up by the clothes. Well, it was a milestone in our dating life when Blue Eyes tactfully and compassionately said something like “these clothes aren’t the ones that flatter your figure the most.” And that was the beginning of the slow and steady progress I have made, with his help, in dressing a little better.

I have come a long way, but every now and then I still shock him with something ridiculous like these socks with sandals. I want ya’ll to know that I know this is ridiculous. I lost a big toe nail, because I asked my foot doctor to get rid of it, this is a longer story, just know that I’m glad it’s gone. But my toe really, really doesn’t like shoes and while February has been warm in Texas, I’m still not ready to go without socks, so for a little while, this is it. (When taking this picture, I noticed that my socks are even inside-out. Oh, no.)

Blue Eyes and I have a big double-date on Saturday to a fancy sushi restaurant and he said I better not be wearing socks and sandals. My friend Jennifer said I should wear my open-toe high heels. You know, with my nail-less big toe, still gooey and red, just kind of there. That would get even more attention than the socks and sandals.

Well, to be civilized, I will at least wear a band-aid.

OK, I think it is very funny that I wrote a post about my trouble with comments and it didn’t get a comment.

For a long time, I knew that at 40 I would write a book (well, it became a blog instead) and at 50 I would be mayor of Austin, but the mayor part is history now that I have written such a controversial post about the very meaning of Christianity. Here is the post on BlogHer, if you want to read about the end of my political career. And if you think of feel something about what I write, I would LOVE a comment. (I’ve closed comments here, so they can all be at BlogHer.)

I’m a new blogger and trying to learn how to do it well and trying to build relationships with other bloggers and I’ve read the many blogs about blogging and they all say I need to comment on blogs that are similar to mine.

This makes me feel like a shady PR firm hiding a client’s dirty secrets or a Hollywood starlet who has been seeing a young man who is much too young. It makes me want to say “No Comment!”

I have all sorts of opinions, but they are slow opinions. I’ll read a new post and I’ll have some ideas but I’ll want to think about them for a while. Then I might start to write something and I’ll edit some, but I’ll want to save a draft and come back and you can’t do that. After a few days I will have a better way to say it and by the end of the week I’ll think my comment is just about ready to go, but then, you know how it is, no one is hanging around that post anymore.

When I was a young girl, I remember a very specific vision I had for myself of being on the Donahue show and he asks me a very difficult question. I am able to express myself clearly and while everyone doesn’t agree with me, they all understand. I still have this wish, to be able to make some sense of the chaos in my mind, a sense that makes sense to others. But I have done it through writing instead of speaking and writing up until now has been slow. When I need to respond quickly, I still feel like the young girl who thinks of the great response to a rude remark three days too late.

And I think the comment karma of blogging is in effect, because I get a lot of visits and page views to my blog, but not many comments. (Maybe ya’ll find it hard too?)

I have had the same trouble with my own posts. My Jamie Lynn Spears post was about two weeks late and I do best with book reviews, when you can’t tell how long I took to think about it. But I have gotten better with posts. One late night last week, I managed to get a post up about Barak Obama’s Yes We Can video on the same day I learned about it. It was quite an accomplishment!

And I managed to get two comments up on BlogHer in the past few days on recent posts, without taking a week to think about it. I was a little nervous, putting my ideas out there in such a hurried rush, without all the proper thinking-it-through, but I think I managed not to say something ridiculous.

So, for now, I’m going to work on some timely comments so I can be an active member of the blogging community for now and when Donahue (I mean, Oprah) calls, I won’t be tempted to say “no comment,” I’ll be ready.