Great News
I heard this week that I was accepted to the writing workshop at Downtown Cathedral. Praise God from whom all blessings flow! I am absolutely thrilled. Now I get to figure out how it’s going to work, but after getting to know baby M over the last month I believe it’s possible, somehow. Of course, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover between now and then, including a couple of traditional developmentally fussy milestones (6 weeks seems to be a threshold, and there’s usually a growth spurt between 2 1/2 and 3 months, when the babe becomes a Remorseless Eating Machine). But between volunteer nannies and surrogate grandmas, breastpumps, slings, and even Mamala’s new apartment near the cathedral where we could possibly stay to avoid commuting, I am excited about the possibility. Heck, the writing project I pitched for the week centers around ministry and motherhood, so the experience itself will be a good laboratory for navigating those dual vocations.

If you’ve read the wonderful post over at the Ice Floe you know that the fabulous PPB was also accepted. We are totally stoked. And you RGBPs might be pleased to know that of 50+ applications submitted, 12 were selected, and 2 of those are RevGals.

Shifting gears…

Today
Today, 1/28, is the third anniversary of my father’s death.
1/28 is also the day the space shuttle Challenger exploded, twenty years ago.

Dad’s memorial services were on 2/1.
On that same day was the Columbia disaster.
I remember hearing the news on the radio on the way to the service—how the shuttle had been hurtling through the atmosphere at 18 times the speed of sound, and suddenly disintegrated, raining toxic debris over Texas and leaving a wide swath of destruction, and I thought, “Yep, that’s about right.”

There’s a poem in there somewhere, but I don’t feel like writing it.

Last year’s tributes here and here.

It’s actually been a decent day. The weather was warm-ish and sunny so we took the girls for a walk around County Lake Park. C crunched through the leaves while M was snug in a fleece winter zip-up suit and Baby Bjorn. Then we went to the car wash and to lunch. I took an afternoon nap with M on my chest.

The sleep situation was better last night. Here’s our sob story… Basically the problem is that M never fully settles down after her late-night feeding (thankfully there’s only one of those, ranging from 3-5 a.m.). She grunts and clears her throat and so on. She doesn’t do it at bedtime, just after the night feed. If I had to describe it, it sounds like she’s struggling to free herself from her swaddle. So we thought, maybe she’s too tightly confined. NO. That was even worse. She never wakes up enough to actually cry or express real distress. If she were an adult I would call it “tossing and turning.”

We’ve tried the following: burp her thoroughly, change her diaper, NOT change her diaper (in case that was waking her up more), rock her thoroughly, not rock her at all, put her on our chest, hold her in cradle hold, warm her bassinet with a heating pad, feed her only on one side, feed her on both sides, feed her in bed, feed her in the glider.

Of course, to save our sleep we’ve talked about putting her down in her room after the night feeding so she’s not as disruptive. That solves my problem and R’s, sort of, although I don’t like the idea of just shutting her away from us this young as an ongoing solution (as an occasional coping mechanism? Damn straight). But it doesn’t solve her problem. I just can’t imagine that she’s sleeping well with all that noise going on. But I’m told that some babies are just loud sleepers.

Well as I said, last night was better. We tried a new swaddling technique and it seemed to work. She woke up at 4:30 and settled with only a minute or two of grunting. Then she started up again around 6:30. So, we’re making progress.

Sleep deprivation is really hard. And we don’t even have it that bad! I keep thinking of that great bit from the Simpsons where Homer and Marge go visit Apu and his wife, who have given birth to octuplets…

Marge: I knew you had your hands full with the babies, so I baked you some banana bread.
Apu: [sarcastic] Oh hallelujah, our problems are solved. We have banana bread.
Marge: Well, you don't have to be sarcastic.

…

Marge: Maybe you two should get a nanny.
Apu: Yes, and what would I pay her with? Banana bread? Sorry, sorry, it's just that we haven't slept in days, and we're running out of money and ... banana bread? What the hell were you thinking? Banana bread. Apologize, apologize again. As a token of forgiveness, please take this baby.
Homer: No, Marge, no!

And on that note, I’m going to head towards bed.