Planet Lu

6 Things I Like About Lu

2010-03-18T21:26:00.008-05:00

My girl. She turned 6 on Friday, and this post is much delayed by life, work, Milo...like so much of our attention to her these days.

I brought two dozen decorated sugar cookies in the shape of the number 6 to her classroom on Friday. I got them from Central Market, and that is okay. That compromise allowed me to show up in her classroom vaguely on time and smiling.

As part of her birthday celebration, Ms. P invited the class to think of compliments for Lucy. The birthday girl got to call on 6 people, and they said:
• I like your printing
• You run fast
• You're cool
• You're my friend
• You're my best friend

I forgot #6, the compliment from the youngest, most ostracized member of the class, but I was most proud that she called on him. We'll call that #1: her kindness. Here's the rest of what I like about Lu:

Her emotional intelligence. She's tuned into other people's feelings, and she understands nuance.
Her singshpiel. Lu's Gilbert and Sullivan-style operettas are elaborate, if somewhat off-key. She thinks in song.
Her manners. She has written 17 of the 36 thank-you notes she has to write. It's been a bit of a battle, but she understands the importance of writing them. Also, she can't play with the gift until she has written the note.
Her imagination. The other day, I heard her say haughtily, "Trevor, please bring the limo 'round." Seriously. We should put this both in the category of imagination and ambition.
Her sense of humor. She likes knock-knock and fart jokes. She inherited this from her father.

There is so much more that I truly like about her: her brain, her curiosity, her confidence. She's a good kid.

The Grooming

2010-03-10T11:02:00.002-06:00

I just want you to know that I know I'm falling down on the job. But this morning, upon discovering that rice cereal has the consistency of spackle when dried and some of it was stuck to the side of Milo's head, I had a choice to make. I tried to remember when I'd last bathed him. I gave him a good sniff. He smelled like leftovers. So I washed him, and now he smells like a cookie.

But no, my hair is not washed. No, I am not wearing cute shoes. And yes, that is urp on my shirt. And I know that you know. We're just not gonna talk about.

Happy Half Birthday, M!

2010-03-06T19:22:00.004-06:00

Six months ago, at this very hour, I was...busy...bringing Milo into this world, and I didn't even know who he was yet. Seems like a lifetime ago, but then, I guess, before Milo, it was another life.

This life is really, really good. The goofy lovefest we are having with him — Jason, me and Lu — would make your teeth squeak, it's so sweet.

His face just breaks open when he smiles. He makes me feel like I am the most entertaining, spectacular, important person in the world. And I think there's a good chance he is actually charming: other people seem to have a similar response to his smile. Smilo. He's a pretty magic baby.

Milo at Work

2010-03-05T13:21:00.002-06:00

While it might look like he is contributing BIG IDEAS to this meeting, it is getting harder and harder to have Milo at the office with me. He wants — and deserves — more attention than I am giving him, and I think maybe my work does too.

So, in a couple of weeks, he'll start "school." The thought of it makes me ill.

In the mean time, I will bask in the popularity that Milo provides. Walking around our campus with him is like having a small celebrity strapped to my body.

Aunt Patricia

2010-02-25T21:01:00.009-06:00

My great Aunt Patricia died today. She was 83. She had the most amazing life, full of adventure and love. There is a picture in her kitchen, yellowed by the sun streaming in from the windows that overlook the Bay Bridge, of Patricia in her 30s, dancing on the bar of a Greek restaurant. She looks like Doris Day. If my memory of the photo serves, Uncle Bob looks on, bemused.

She was from Nocona, Texas, but she went to Stanford Law School. She had friends and adopted "children" from all over the world: celebrities, clerics, doctors, socialites. She and Uncle Bob traveled the globe, and even after he died three years ago, she kept traveling on her own. She cruised the South Pacific this Christmas. She was a brilliant, accomplished person with more verve than anyone I know.

When we last saw her in April, she took us out to an evening of cabaret, then we drove to a favorite restaurant of hers for a nightcap. When we pulled up to Firenze By Night, the parking situation was San Francisco laughable, as usual. When we suggested we should just have a nightcap at home because the parking was too bad, she said, imperiously, "They save a spot for me." And sure enough, as soon as they noticed Aunt P's car, a handful of strapping Italian men came out and began rearranging vehicles to accommodate us. The best-looking of the bunch, Paolo, who was younger than me, kissed Aunt P on both cheeks and said, "Where have you been, bella?" She and Paolo made teasing plans to meet in Milan for Easter. They treated us like kings in the bar.

When I am old, please let me be like Aunt Patricia. Hell, let me be like her when I am young.

Funny Ha Ha

2010-02-24T19:24:00.002-06:00

Tonight on our way to House Pizza, as we were driving down North Loop, we encountered some kind of exotic fowl — a guinea hen? — wandering around the middle of the street. After some initial concern about where the animal might live, should we take it to a shelter, etc., Lucy started laughing. "It's like the joke! That chicken was actually crossing the road." We still don't know why he was crossing the road, but we did have a good laugh.

Famous

2010-02-19T22:42:00.004-06:00

Lucy is newly obsessed with fame. Yesterday was "Scottiewood Red Carpet Day" at school, which meant the kids dressed up (or dressed up like movie stars?) to build excitement for some kind of event this weekend that involves some of my money. An aside: Lucy's school doesn't cost anywhere near as much as private school, but what with all the boosting and raffle tickets and sales of various kinds of wrapping paper, we pay.

So I had to explain Hollywood. And being famous. Which I explained wrong because Lucy determined that she was famous for singing and for art. And I corrected her by saying she was talented at singing and art (and left out a snide remark about being famous for talking too much and bossing everyone around).

I said that famous was about being known by a lot of people. And she said, "I thought that was being popular." I said that they were very similar words. She asked, "Which has more value?" They are studying money in school, so this incisive question is not out of the blue.

I answered "famous." And she said, "Well, I am already popular, because a lot of people know me, but I guess I am not famous."

Then tonight, as we watched Olympic ice-dancing on TV and she twirled around the living room, she asked, "Can only famous people be on the Olympics?" Which brought us back to the discussion of fame vs. talent (to say nothing of the teeny tiny marketing window for Olympic athletes).

We watched the story of Apolo Ohno and his dad, who locked Apolo in a shed after he did badly in the Nagano Olympics when he was 15. His dad made him choose to be excellent.

I don't know how, or if, or when, to do that for Lucy. I want to be the kind of parent who helps her find Her Thing and supports her in the pursuit of it. Not for the sake of being Famous. For the sake of my beachfront retirement home.

Lucy vs. World

2010-02-19T20:29:00.003-06:00

We had Lucy's spring conference with her teacher, Ms. P. There are so many things I could brag about, but I won't. I mean, I want to really, really badly, but I won't. Because that would be unseemly. What I will share with you is the bit of praise that has made me smile, that tells me more than her, ahem, exceptional math and reading (see the unseemly way I worked that in):

"Lucy is amazing in the way she makes connections about how the world works. It's rare that students as young as Lucy show signs of being gifted and talented in social studies, but I'd love to see Lucy working on the world's problems."

Naturally, the proud mother interprets this as a prediction that Lucy will save the world. Her father thinks she will use this complex understanding of the world TO BEND IT TO HER WILL.

Hello.

2010-02-11T20:58:00.002-06:00

Sorry for the radio silence from Lucyandmiloland. We are good. These past couple weeks, our life has been a Jenga game outside on windy day. We haven't blown over yet.

Milo news:
Milo discovered the existence of his feet last week. He can get the left one in his mouth. This week, he realized his hands are attached to his body. He'll hold one hand out in front of him and gaze at it, kind of horrified, the way you would if you'd grown a third one. He can roll over, but sometimes gets too upset to roll himself back. There's a particular squeal that means turtle boy needs a flip. Oh, and spit-bubble-blowing. Little animal is a font of spit.

Lucy news:
Lucy is awesome. On Sunday, I took her on a Girl Scout outing to the family dance workshop at Ballet Austin. When the woman with the microphone asked an auditorium full of people if they had any questions, Lucy raised her hand and got called on TWICE, spoke clearly and asked very incisive questions. I would have needed a beta blocker to come off so cool.

This morning, she came and got in bed between me and Jason and said, "If Milo were in here, we'd have a family sandwich."

Oh, and her favorite vegetable? BRUSSELS SPROUTS. You heard me.

Sigh. Life is hard, but it is good.

"Do My Wrck Qiitly"

2010-02-06T10:30:00.003-06:00

Last week, we got an email from a parent of one of Lucy's classmates. The subject line was "Bite." I started laughing before I could even open the email. Apparently, there was a scuffle over a seat and some shoving and biting ensued.

Lucy came home with this note:

The note said "Please sign and return," but I asked Ms. P. if we could keep it.

Home

2010-01-27T21:40:00.003-06:00

I went on my first business trip since Milo was born and I survived. I pumped breast milk in an airplane bathroom, but I survived. We all did. Jason was Super Dad (with some help from Super Granny). Lucy was amazingly helpful and cooperative, and Milo was a peach, I am told.

While everything went very smoothly without me, I think they missed me. When I went into Milo's room to feed him at 2 a.m. he gave me the biggest grinningest "GUH" ever. Lucy kept wanting to sit or lie down next to me all tonight, stroking my arm. She even told me I was beautiful, which kind of made me want to cry. And Jason's been shmoopy too. I should leave more often if I'm going to get this kind of welcome home.

Whack-a-Milo

2010-01-17T18:09:00.003-06:00

I know it's wrong, but we can't stop laughing.

Did You Know...

2010-01-16T08:48:00.002-06:00

...that Milo is unusual? He is unusual because he is wacky. You know, he is always whacking everything! Maybe he is so unusual they will put him on the news.

Lucy Can Read

2010-01-13T21:29:00.003-06:00

Like, READ-read. Like sit-in-the-corner-and-read-herself-a-chapter-book read. Tonight she read us a book about polar bears that eat baby seals who have poked their tiny heads through the ice to breathe. She read this without horror, while Milo, my very own baby seal, looked on with wide eyes. She was all, "Mom, that's just what happens." Oh, and she knows the word "scavenge." We got a big laugh about the part where polar bears are so hungry, they are digging in people's garbage. Climate change is so funny [nervous laughter].

We have all been enjoying each other so much lately. Could be this new parenting model, which I will write about in more detail. Not sure if it has changed Lu, or us, or both, but if we can keep on having more of the fun where we laugh about marauding polar bears, we're gonna keep it up.

Milostone: Four Months

2010-01-11T22:52:00.003-06:00

He weighs 15 lbs. 3 oz., putting him in the 60th percentile for weight, and taking him off the "super-fat" growth trajectory, which, as his primary food source, I found very satisfying. Oh well. Now's probably an appropriate time to lose that third chin.

He's in the 90th percentile for height. Enjoy that, kid. This is the relatively tallest you will ever be, and you can't even stand up to tower over the other kids.

Head: 40th percentile. I attribute this to his unfortunate right-side flat spot. He's spent too much time with his head turned to the right, sucking his right thumb, being all good-natured. I KNEW there was something wrong with this whole "docile" thing: it will be his misshapen head. GOOD-NATURED AND CROOKED-HEADED.

Official diagnosis: perfect. The kid really is the happiest, smilingest creature you'd want to meet. Lowers blood pressure. Could settle a bar fight. Well on his way to the Nobel Peace Prize.

p.s. I promise not to belabor the "Milostone" device, except now I know Liz D. likes it...

Milostone: Flip

2010-01-09T23:39:00.003-06:00

Milo rolled over for the first time today.

We put him in Lu's room to be semi-entertained while Lu and Honour worked out intricate dramas with Playmobil (Lu's room is a guaranteed 30 minutes of happiness).

He's been close to rolling over for weeks now. We had kind of given up. A little while before he rolled over today, I summoned Papa Bear to witness a near-miss. Jason was nonplussed. "He does that all the time."

So we went back to doing what we normally do: ignoring him as he placidly flaps, while we occasionally smile and "guh" at him. During one of my drive-bys, I noticed he was ON HIS STOMACH. He saw me and squawked, as though to say, "WOMAN, I HAVE FLIPPED OVER. RECOGNIZE!"

New Year's Resolution

2010-01-03T21:36:00.003-06:00

Learn Portuguese? Write novel? Be more organized? ACHIEVE WILDEST DREAMS?

Have made and flubbed all those.

This year, my new year's resolution is to Be Happier. I will undoubtedly be discussing this in greater detail in some overly wordy and sentimental tome, but until then, I can only say, I am off to a good start. Why? Because I got a phone call from Pie on a Sunday afternoon.

"Come over for spaghetti!"
"But we are going to Annabelle's birthday and we won't be able to bring anything and we don't have any pajamas and I think we better go home."
"Why? It's just spaghetti. Frank is bringing some guitars and I have the cello and I already made the spaghetti and come over!"

So we did. After a perfect birthday party WITH A CLOWN AND BALLOON ANIMALS AND WINE, (thank you, Annabelle), we had a perfectly low key dinner with some of our dearest friends. Who played the cello and the guitar to some Avett Brothers songs (beautifully, but perhaps imperfectly?). And to think, I almost said no, because it wasn't just right. But I said yes, because Pie always says yes (for which I give her endless grief).

Resolved: greedily, mercilessly seek out those things that make you happy and DO THEM. But it might take some sussing out and seeking before you realize what they are.

Bad Mood Remedy

2009-12-29T16:31:00.003-06:00

Herewith, the cure for any post-holiday grouchiness:

Signs That I Am Doing a Little Too Much

2009-12-21T13:53:00.003-06:00

Yesterday, I found peanut butter in my eyebrow, presumably from my hastily-eaten breakfast.

I have taken to sleeping in my workout clothes in an effort to speed the process of getting to the gym before everybody wakes up in the morning. It is not working.

I have ordered all of Christmas off of Amazon. At least what presents I remembered to buy. I apologize in advance for forgetting you.

My lunch today? A brownie and a cupcake, both stolen from random boxes/trays of sweets I encountered around the office.

Ed. note: I wrote this post last Wednesday and forgot to actually post it. See what I mean?

'Tis the Reasoning for the Season

2009-12-14T10:14:00.004-06:00

One day last week when Jason picked Lu up from Crenshaw's, Miss Carol noted that Lucy told her we celebrated both Christmas and Hanukkah, which we, uh, don't.

Then we were reading this cute book called "Three French Hens," in which the three kosher chickens don't celebrate Christmas. She said, "Kosher means Jewish?" And I explained as best I could about kosher dietary rules that some Jewish people follow.

She then asked if we are Jewish. I said no, we are Christian. "What's the difference?" she wants to know. I explain that Jews and Christians have a lot in common, etc., etc., but that we believe Jesus was the son of God, etc., etc. I clearly need to be taking this child to Sunday school.

And then: "How do you get Jewish?" "You mean, how do you become Jewish?" "Yes." "Well, you can convert, by deciding to become Jewish, or you can be born that way."

Then she really stumped me. "But you don't believe ANYTHING when you're born, so how can you be anything?!" Rather than go into any detail about ethnicity vs. cultural identity vs. religious affiliation, I explain feebly, "Well, when you're born, your parents try to raise you to believe what they believe."

She thinks on this for a moment and says, "I'm ready for bed now." Thank God.

Phone Call with Nurse at Pediatrician's Office

2009-12-11T12:22:00.002-06:00

Me: "So, you're probably going to think I am crazy for asking this, but is it normal for a three-month-old to sleep 12 hours at night and go that long with out wanting to eat?"
Her: "Well, I wouldn't say it's normal, but I would say it's great. And judging by his weight, he can probably go that long."
Me: "So I don't need to be waking him up or anything to feed him?"
Her: "You can if you want to."
Me: "But I don't need to."
Her: "No."
Me: "So I am totally looking a gift horse in the mouth here?"
Her: "Yes, I think so."

SNOT

2009-12-08T09:09:00.002-06:00

We are living in a place I like to call BOOGERTOWN. Lucy and Milo are over this nasty cold, but Jason and I are still getting through it.

Also, I have been going to the office. With a snotty baby. Good times. Yesterday was actually fantastic, with lots of cooperative sleeping and smiling. Milo is very good at advertising.

I will tell more later, but did not want to go more than a week of radio silence from Boogertown. Over and out and achoo.

I Think I Can

2009-12-01T22:05:00.002-06:00

You know that feeling you used to get on Sunday nights? When the clock on "60 Minutes" would come on and you'd feel the weekend ticking sadly away from you? That strange mixture of dread and excitement?

I have it bad. Tomorrow is my first day back at work. Milo is coming with me, thanks to a great program that lets new babies come to the office until they're mobile (more or less). I did it with Lu and it was hard, but the juggling act seemed far easier than making the hard choice between dropping off a three-month-old at daycare and giving up my career.

The juggling act may be harder this time. I have more responsibility and am accountable to more people (read: more meetings). But we're going to do it. And I am hopeful that Milo's sweet disposition and my own calmer, second-time-around demeanor will help us out.

When I think about going to work tomorrow, I am reminded of when I was a little girl on the way to the doctor. My pediatrician's office was at the top of MLK Boulevard, up the very steep hill off Lamar. Every time Mom and I drove up that big hill, we'd talk about the Little Engine That Could and say "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can," which must have been some effort to make me brave.

Tomorrow, I will drive up that same hill to my office, chugging along pulling a baby behind me. I think I can...

Overheard

2009-12-01T08:06:00.002-06:00

This morning before school...
Lucy: "We have to bring the stuff for the gingerbread house TODAY!"
Jason: "We can get it and bring it tomorrow -- we don't have to bring it until Monday."
Lucy: "If we don't bring it today, I am going to be furious. I MEAN IT."
[Brief silence.]
Lucy: "WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP LAUGHING AT ME WHEN I SAY THAT?"
[More silence.]
Lucy: "THAT IS NOT A RESPONSE. I NEED A RESPONSE."
Jason: "It's funny because you just sound so grown up when you say that."

In Appreciation of Milo

2009-11-30T09:54:00.002-06:00

I know I will regretting writing this down, but I just want to note, for the record, which I suppose this is since I have never done a baby book for Lucy and certainly won't for Milo, that Milo officially sleeps through the night! Multiple days in a row of 9+ hours of sleep. Oh, and I just put him down for a nap while he was AWAKE and he found his thumb and PUT HIMSELF TO SLEEP.

I know this may all go to hell, but I am just appreciating it for now.