I just graduated from the infertility clinic!
We still have two little heartbeats, growing and doing just fine.
Next stop - the regular ob-gyn.
But first, I need a nap.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
An Apology Story
The idea that parents should never apologize to their children is so completely idiotic that I can hardly drum up the effort to write anything about why it is so important to do so. But usually, those of us who do apologize to our children tend to do it after yelling at them or grabbing them or something along those lines. Today, I have a good example of something more subtle that required an apology from me.
Sam and I were getting ready to go to school. She likes to brush her own hair, but she is not very good at it yet, and I haven't done a good job at defining for her (or myself) whose responsibility it really is. So most days, I try to talk her into letting me brush the parts that are tangled, and if she really resists, I don't push it. That's lazy parenting right there, but it's been okay because I'm not too uptight about her hair looking messy and she's not so resistant that she never lets me brush it. But still, it causes unnecessary friction, and it caused this morning's situation.
So we were in the bathroom getting ready and she told me emphatically that her hair was not very tangled, and that she wanted to brush it all herself, with no help from me. I checked and she was right - it was not very tangled - so I told her that she could do it herself today. She did her usual great job on the front, but the back was still a mess. Then she asked if she could put some gel in her hair. We don't do that every morning, but I always let her if she wants to. I told her that, sure, she could put gel in her hair, but only if she let me brush the back first.
She got very angry. She gave me a dirty look and locked herself in the bathroom. (She does this because she needs to be alone to calm down - amazing maturity, I have to say.) After a few minutes, she came out, but she was still mad, and she went downstairs. When I came down, she yelled at me that she wanted to be alone. I could tell that she was very upset, and I also respected the fact that she wasn't throwing a fit, but just expressing her anger and working on letting it pass. While I waited for her to calm down, I thought about what I had said, and I realized that I had tried to manipulate her. It was unfair of me to tell her she could do something herself, but then try to get her to let me help with a bribe/threat. And I've done this many times with things other than her hair. It's something that might be appropriate for a toddler, but it's not appropriate for someone mature enough to know that she needs to be alone to calm down.
So I left her alone for a few more minutes and she eventually came to me and started talking about other things. But I sat down at her level and asked if I could talk to her. I told her that I was sorry for what I said about her hair. I told her that it was unfair of me to tell her she could brush it herself, but then not let her use the gel unless I got to brush it. I told her that I should have stuck to my word and that I was wrong. I didn't tell her that I had tried to manipulate her because I thought that she wouldn't understand that word, but I wish that I had because that is how she will learn the meaning of those big words.
And even though I apologize to her regularly, she looked a bit surprised, and definitely grateful. Her face relaxed, and she said, "Yeah," and gave me a hug.
It was a nice thing. I'm going to have to address the hair-responsibility issue with her. Maybe we'll talk about it this afternoon and see if we can work out a system that makes us both happy. But, once again, I also have to update my view of my daughter. She is older and wiser than I treat her. I'm afraid this will always be the case. Keeping up is the hardest thing of all.
Sam and I were getting ready to go to school. She likes to brush her own hair, but she is not very good at it yet, and I haven't done a good job at defining for her (or myself) whose responsibility it really is. So most days, I try to talk her into letting me brush the parts that are tangled, and if she really resists, I don't push it. That's lazy parenting right there, but it's been okay because I'm not too uptight about her hair looking messy and she's not so resistant that she never lets me brush it. But still, it causes unnecessary friction, and it caused this morning's situation.
So we were in the bathroom getting ready and she told me emphatically that her hair was not very tangled, and that she wanted to brush it all herself, with no help from me. I checked and she was right - it was not very tangled - so I told her that she could do it herself today. She did her usual great job on the front, but the back was still a mess. Then she asked if she could put some gel in her hair. We don't do that every morning, but I always let her if she wants to. I told her that, sure, she could put gel in her hair, but only if she let me brush the back first.
She got very angry. She gave me a dirty look and locked herself in the bathroom. (She does this because she needs to be alone to calm down - amazing maturity, I have to say.) After a few minutes, she came out, but she was still mad, and she went downstairs. When I came down, she yelled at me that she wanted to be alone. I could tell that she was very upset, and I also respected the fact that she wasn't throwing a fit, but just expressing her anger and working on letting it pass. While I waited for her to calm down, I thought about what I had said, and I realized that I had tried to manipulate her. It was unfair of me to tell her she could do something herself, but then try to get her to let me help with a bribe/threat. And I've done this many times with things other than her hair. It's something that might be appropriate for a toddler, but it's not appropriate for someone mature enough to know that she needs to be alone to calm down.
So I left her alone for a few more minutes and she eventually came to me and started talking about other things. But I sat down at her level and asked if I could talk to her. I told her that I was sorry for what I said about her hair. I told her that it was unfair of me to tell her she could brush it herself, but then not let her use the gel unless I got to brush it. I told her that I should have stuck to my word and that I was wrong. I didn't tell her that I had tried to manipulate her because I thought that she wouldn't understand that word, but I wish that I had because that is how she will learn the meaning of those big words.
And even though I apologize to her regularly, she looked a bit surprised, and definitely grateful. Her face relaxed, and she said, "Yeah," and gave me a hug.
It was a nice thing. I'm going to have to address the hair-responsibility issue with her. Maybe we'll talk about it this afternoon and see if we can work out a system that makes us both happy. But, once again, I also have to update my view of my daughter. She is older and wiser than I treat her. I'm afraid this will always be the case. Keeping up is the hardest thing of all.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Peikoff on Parenting as Career
Hooray for Dr. Leonard Peikoff's strong statement supporting parenting as a legitimate career - aka central purpose - in his podcast of Jan 31, 2011! I have always been dissatisfied with Ayn Rand's lukewarm (and, as far as I know, only) statement on the subject, given in her Playboy interview of March 1964:
This answer has always bothered me, even before I had a child. What happened to the union of the moral and the practical? And why is legitimate career parenting treated as the exception here? Those of us who do take our parenting roles seriously should not be tainted by the fact that most parents do not treat their role scientifically (if they think about it at all). Just because most people make a mess out of parenting does not diminish it as a legitimate, productive, creative, moral central purpose for those of us who take it seriously.
I would have liked to hear her answer, "No - absolutely not immoral!" I would have liked to hear her say that, of course, it is moral, and it can be one of the most fulfilling careers in existence. And then if she wished to speak about the lazy, unthinking parents - fine. In fact, I would have loved a long rant from Ayn Rand on that subject.
I know that Ayn Rand did think parenting is important work. She says so in the statement above, and she makes it clear in the scene with the mother in Atlas Shrugged. Personally, I have never had any qualms about the morality (or the practicality) of my choice to be a professional parent. I know firsthand how fulfilling it is and even if Ayn Rand did think otherwise, I wouldn't give a damn.
But there is a lot of misunderstanding amongst young Objectivists about the virtue of productivity, and it comes out in the parenting field all the time. (Rational Jenn addresses many of the common objections in this post.) We Objectivist professional parents have always been somewhat on the defensive on this issue, and Rand's statement does more harm than help, I think. So I cheered when I heard Dr. Peikoff make the following statements in response to the question of whether raising children could be a legitimate central purpose:
Unfortunately, most of Peikoff's statement came from the perspective of the children's needs, which I don't think justifies whether parenting is a valid central purpose. But I loved that his answer was an unqualified "Yes!"
I do disagree slightly with Peikoff about it necessarily harming children to put them in day care while both parents work. I think that can be a legitimate choice as well. But I do agree with the sentiment that, if you choose to have children, they must be the focus. So a mother might go back to a career that she enjoys outside the home, but it could no longer be her central purpose, at least not while the children are young. Her outside career would be on hold, and working in it would be a placeholder. Some careers would be ruined by taking a ten year break, and I think it would be a sacrifice to give up such a career forever if it is your passion, just for the ten years of child-rearing. I also don't think that those people should never have children. I think it is possible to have both (not two central purposes at once, but the central purpose of raising children, with a full-time job on the side), but one had better be ready for some seriously hard work, and to give up many other optional values, if that is one's choice.
I think that during those ten years (or whatever the appropriate amount of time is), the working mother (or the father) would have to have the attitude that the children come first. This would exclude any type of career that requires both parents to work very long hours, or to be so spiritually drained at the end of the day that they have nothing left for the children. I completely agree with Dr. Peikoff that, if you intend to be a weekend parent, you should not have children. His argument is that they need more of their parents (or at least, one parent) than that. My argument is that it could be nothing but a sacrifice. Without at least one parent having the direct influence on the children, every day, the children are not really even "yours." They won't absorb your family culture. They won't see you as a role model and (hopefully) emulate your virtues. They won't be "of you," except in the crudest, genetic way. (And I know exactly how much that is worth.) You will not have a true family, but just a marriage with young strangers involved. The children won't know you, and you won't know them. What's the point in that? What value would you be hoping to gain from that situation?
The good news is that I do think that when you have two parents in a good marriage, one can indeed work long hours and only be there on the weekends. His (or her) influence on the children will be there, indirectly, through the other partner. But if both parents are essentially absent, the connection is severed. And that is a recipe for disaster, for all involved.
PLAYBOY: In your opinion, is a woman immoral who chooses to devote herself to home and family instead of a career?
RAND: Not immoral—I would say she is impractical, because a home cannot be a full-time occupation, except when her children are young. However, if she wants a family and wants to make that her career, at least for a while, it would be proper—if she approaches it as a career, that is, if she studies the subject, if she defines the rules and principles by which she wants to bring up her children, if she approaches her task in an intellectual manner. It is a very responsible task and a very important one, but only when treated as a science, not as a mere emotional indulgence.
This answer has always bothered me, even before I had a child. What happened to the union of the moral and the practical? And why is legitimate career parenting treated as the exception here? Those of us who do take our parenting roles seriously should not be tainted by the fact that most parents do not treat their role scientifically (if they think about it at all). Just because most people make a mess out of parenting does not diminish it as a legitimate, productive, creative, moral central purpose for those of us who take it seriously.
I would have liked to hear her answer, "No - absolutely not immoral!" I would have liked to hear her say that, of course, it is moral, and it can be one of the most fulfilling careers in existence. And then if she wished to speak about the lazy, unthinking parents - fine. In fact, I would have loved a long rant from Ayn Rand on that subject.
I know that Ayn Rand did think parenting is important work. She says so in the statement above, and she makes it clear in the scene with the mother in Atlas Shrugged. Personally, I have never had any qualms about the morality (or the practicality) of my choice to be a professional parent. I know firsthand how fulfilling it is and even if Ayn Rand did think otherwise, I wouldn't give a damn.
But there is a lot of misunderstanding amongst young Objectivists about the virtue of productivity, and it comes out in the parenting field all the time. (Rational Jenn addresses many of the common objections in this post.) We Objectivist professional parents have always been somewhat on the defensive on this issue, and Rand's statement does more harm than help, I think. So I cheered when I heard Dr. Peikoff make the following statements in response to the question of whether raising children could be a legitimate central purpose:
"I think it is the responsibility of the parent to look after young children personally. I think it gives room for tremendous creativity. It's very important in their development."
"However strong I am about career, I do not believe that you have a baby and dump it in day care."
"If you intend to be a weekend parent, I don't think you should have children."
"If you have children, they have to be the focus; they are your responsibility, and it is not a job that can be passed off to someone else - not without harm to the children. That's my understanding; I'm not a pediatrician."
Unfortunately, most of Peikoff's statement came from the perspective of the children's needs, which I don't think justifies whether parenting is a valid central purpose. But I loved that his answer was an unqualified "Yes!"
I do disagree slightly with Peikoff about it necessarily harming children to put them in day care while both parents work. I think that can be a legitimate choice as well. But I do agree with the sentiment that, if you choose to have children, they must be the focus. So a mother might go back to a career that she enjoys outside the home, but it could no longer be her central purpose, at least not while the children are young. Her outside career would be on hold, and working in it would be a placeholder. Some careers would be ruined by taking a ten year break, and I think it would be a sacrifice to give up such a career forever if it is your passion, just for the ten years of child-rearing. I also don't think that those people should never have children. I think it is possible to have both (not two central purposes at once, but the central purpose of raising children, with a full-time job on the side), but one had better be ready for some seriously hard work, and to give up many other optional values, if that is one's choice.
I think that during those ten years (or whatever the appropriate amount of time is), the working mother (or the father) would have to have the attitude that the children come first. This would exclude any type of career that requires both parents to work very long hours, or to be so spiritually drained at the end of the day that they have nothing left for the children. I completely agree with Dr. Peikoff that, if you intend to be a weekend parent, you should not have children. His argument is that they need more of their parents (or at least, one parent) than that. My argument is that it could be nothing but a sacrifice. Without at least one parent having the direct influence on the children, every day, the children are not really even "yours." They won't absorb your family culture. They won't see you as a role model and (hopefully) emulate your virtues. They won't be "of you," except in the crudest, genetic way. (And I know exactly how much that is worth.) You will not have a true family, but just a marriage with young strangers involved. The children won't know you, and you won't know them. What's the point in that? What value would you be hoping to gain from that situation?
The good news is that I do think that when you have two parents in a good marriage, one can indeed work long hours and only be there on the weekends. His (or her) influence on the children will be there, indirectly, through the other partner. But if both parents are essentially absent, the connection is severed. And that is a recipe for disaster, for all involved.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Time
Sam's latest thing is to tell everyone she meets that she is four years old and that she'll be five on her next birthday. Then she proceeds to tell them all the things that she will be able to do when she gets bigger (which I'm afraid she thinks will happen when she is five):
It's nice to see her aspiring to these things. She is really working hard on the concept of time, and the fact that she looks to the future is somewhat new. She is also looking forward to summer, when she'll be able to go back to the local water park and spend more time at the playground.
It's fun to watch her try to work out different lengths of time. When I told her this morning that I signed her up for swim lessons, and that we would start in one month, she said, "after nap?" I said, "No, a month is 30 days." She said, "after we go visit daddy at work?" That is what we are doing right after nap today, so the fact that she has those in order is good. But then I told her that a month was about as long as it took from the day she started opening doors on her Advent calendar until Christmas. I saw her wheels turning with that idea. Analogies like that, that key into her values, are the best.
I haven't figured out anything to use for the concept of nine months, though.
- I can have two vitamins
- I can drive a car
- I can stay home by myself
- I can go outside by myself
- I can open the car door
- I can have coffee
- I can have a whole soda
It's nice to see her aspiring to these things. She is really working hard on the concept of time, and the fact that she looks to the future is somewhat new. She is also looking forward to summer, when she'll be able to go back to the local water park and spend more time at the playground.
It's fun to watch her try to work out different lengths of time. When I told her this morning that I signed her up for swim lessons, and that we would start in one month, she said, "after nap?" I said, "No, a month is 30 days." She said, "after we go visit daddy at work?" That is what we are doing right after nap today, so the fact that she has those in order is good. But then I told her that a month was about as long as it took from the day she started opening doors on her Advent calendar until Christmas. I saw her wheels turning with that idea. Analogies like that, that key into her values, are the best.
I haven't figured out anything to use for the concept of nine months, though.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Adventures in New York
Despite the spotting scare, cold weather, pregnancy fatigue, and a cranky Sam, we had a pretty good trip to New York. We did a lot more than I had expected.
We arrived mid-afternoon on Friday, and it was not raining or snowing, so we checked into our tiny hotel room, examined the room for bed bugs, unpacked, and then hit the town. We decided to go to FAO Schwarz, which we skipped last time because of the holiday crowds. We took the subway and ended up right at the horse-drawn carriages outside Central Park. We had missed that last time, too, for the same reason, so we took the opportunity. Of course, Sam loved it. Central Park looks strange all covered in snow. In fact, all of New York looked strange to me. Walking was a big hassle because of the puddles and slush everywhere. But the carriage ride was a really nice way to begin the trip. Afterwards, we got a hot dog from a street vendor, always one of my favorite things to do.
FAO Schwarz was okay, but not as grand as I had remembered it from when I visited as a child. Sam loved the Big Piano, but I don't remember much else that wowed her. We told her she could buy one thing and I was hoping she'd pick out something new and interesting, but she wasn't drawn to anything in particular so we ended up getting her a Fancy Nancy book. Somehow, we've raised a four-year-old who is completely oblivious to the idea of shopping and buying toys. She had a real hard time making a list of things she wanted for Christmas, too. Maybe we don't let her watch enough commercials.
We had dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant, which was so-so, and then called it a day. We had to do my progesterone injections twice a day in that tiny hotel room, which was a challenge, but not really all that big of a deal. I'm just glad we took the train and didn't have to carry all those needles on an airplane. I suppose we would have had to put them in a checked bag, and that would have been very scary. A lost bag could have meant a lost pregnancy.
The next morning, I discovered that our hotel was committing borderline fraud by claiming that the room had a shower. I suppose it's common in Manhattan, but there was just no water pressure at all on the twelfth floor. Lesson learned: from now on, request a room on a lower floor.
We had a date with Mary Poppins at 2pm, so we decided to hit the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the morning, have lunch there, and then head back to Broadway. We took the subway, but ended up having to walk a long way to get to the Met. Adam and I took turns carrying Sam for parts of the walk. I discovered the spotting when we arrived. Maybe it was all the walking, but I don't really think so. Regardless, the rest of the day is kind of vague to me, since all I could think about was the next trip to the bathroom. I liked the Met, but we didn't stay long. The building itself was pleasant, and we enjoyed another view of snow-covered Central Park through the floor to ceiling windows.
I also completely accidentally came across a sculpture called The Sun Vow, which is featured in Luc Travers' book, Touching the Art. After reading his book, this sculpture has a very personal meaning to me, and it was a thrill and a joy to stumble upon it and get to see the real thing instead of just photos. Unfortunately, most of the paintings we wanted to see were packed away in rows of glass display cases, while the gallery was being renovated. I can't wait to go back again in the future to see more.
We decided to take a cab to get back to Broadway, since I was trying to take it easy. For Sam, we used the Ride Safer Travel Vest I mentioned before. We strapped it on her, then buckled her into the cab. It's not the easiest thing to do, especially over a winter coat, but it really didn't take that long, and it's simple enough so that we felt very comfortable that we had hooked it up right and Sam was safe. We ended up using the vest about four times on the trip, and even Adam, who was skeptical about it being worth the cost of $120, was convinced that it was a great investment. (We even used the vest again this past weekend at home, to allow Sam to ride in the rental car her grandparents were driving on their visit. It was much easier than putting one of her car seats in their car.)
Samantha loved Mary Poppins, and I think Adam did too. I thought they did a really good job with it, but I'm just not much of a Mary Poppins fan, so it didn't thrill me. Also, I was tense about not being able to go to the bathroom for an hour and a half at a time. But still, if you have kids, I would definitely recommend the show. The singing and dancing were wonderful, and it was visually beautiful without being over-the-top flashy like I suspect some other shows are. My favorite part was when the statues in the park came to life and danced.
After that, there was just time for dinner, which we had an an Irish pub near our hotel. It was quite good, but that ended up being the best restaurant of the trip, unfortunately.
All we had planned for the next day, Sunday, was lunch with Harry Binswanger and Jean Moroney, so we decided to rest in the morning and do the Statue of Liberty in the afternoon. The weather was nice (sunny with a high of 34), so this was our chance, and we all really wanted to see it.
Lunch with the Binswangers was a highlight of the trip for me. We just had a really nice conversation, and they gave me some ideas for a project I'm working on. Sam got to meet their two cats, and anything that involves cats is a hit with Sam.
Afterwards, we took a cab to Battery Park and braved the cold on the ferry to Liberty Island. Before we got on, though, we had to upgrade our winter gear, so Sam got a pair of gloves in the official color of New York, black, and I got a tacky touristy knit hat with "I heart NY" on it. Adam acted embarrassed, but I loved wearing it. What's wrong with being a tourist?
The boat ride wasn't bad because we were in a completely enclosed area and there was even heat. We watched Lady Liberty grow larger and larger in the windows. Sam said, "Wow, she is humongous!" Adam said, "She sure is. And so is the idea that she represents." I told Sam the four-year-old version of the meaning of the statue. I told her that, a long time ago, no matter where you lived in the world, you were bossed around. No matter where you went, there was somebody telling you what to do. You were not free. But then people came to our country and made it a place where nobody was allowed to boss anyone else around. We are all free to do what we want here. And the news spread all over the world, and lots of people started to come here, because nobody likes to be bossed around. And another country thought we were so great that they gave us this statue to celebrate the fact that we have freedom. And that's what "liberty" means - freedom. So she is called the Statue of Liberty.
We walked all the way around Liberty Island and bought a cheap replica of the statue in the gift shop, and then we were ready to head back. It was really cold. I got a few good pictures of the Manhattan skyline, but downtown still makes me sad. We did see the beginnings of Freedom Tower. I think it's about halfway done. I hope that it will raise the skyline once again.
Before we got a cab, we picked up a couple of hot dogs and fed the buns to the pigeons. Of course, the pigeons were another hit with Sam. Adam, having lived in New York, just sees them as flying rats, but I don't mind them. At least, I didn't, until they started swooping down over my head from behind, trying to grab the hot dog right out of my hands! They actually bumped into my head as they made their passes. It was annoying, but also kind of cool.
We had a disaster of a dinner that night. I need to get on Yelp and trash that place.
The next day was Adam's workshop, so he hung out with us in the morning but then was gone for most of the day. Sam and I went to Toys-R-Us in Times Square. I think it's even better than FAO Schwarz. It has a real Ferris Wheel inside the store! Sam loved that. She was too scared to get a hug from Geoffrey the Giraffe, but I could see that she was less terrified of the enormous animal that she used to be of things like that. We spent about an hour browsing, and Sam's favorite toy was Thomas the Train. That's the second time she's been drawn to Thomas, but I think it's just too late to go down that expensive road with her. What a deprived child.
Despite the cold weather, we had ice cream in the store before heading out. We walked the fourteen blocks back to the hotel, stopping for more hot dogs for lunch on the way. Sam griped about the walking on this trip a lot more than last time. I think she's gotten lazy. But she did it. It helped to count down the blocks left to go: ten, nine, eight... Sam is very much into numbers right now.
When we got back, Sam had her first nap of the trip. She was really getting cranky by this point, and we had no plans for the rest of the day, so things started degenerating from there on out. She and I had dinner at the Irish pub again, but otherwise we were stuck in the hotel room since we had no energy for much else. The room was so small that TV was really the only option. My iPad was useless for movies because of the insanely stupid iTunes movie rental system, where you have to download the movie on to your regular computer, then transfer it to your iPad (which all takes quite a long time), and then you get a rented movie for 30 days, but only 24 hours after your hit "play" for the first time. So I only had time to put one movie on the thing, and it was only available for the train ride there. I'm really not much of a fan of the iPad. My Droid is better in every way, except, of course, it's only got the tiny phone screen.
So anyway, the next day, we woke up too late and were too tired to do anything, and our train was departing at 2pm, so we were stuck in the hotel room again. By this time, Sam was done, and she was being a complete bitch to both of us, constantly. It was really quite unbearable. She couldn't take a sip of water without spilling the whole bottle, she wouldn't eat much, and she wouldn't cooperate. I ended up really yelling at her, twice. I later apologized, but even now, I only half-regret it. It shocked her into tears, which stopped the yelling for a while, and even made her complacent enough to walk alongside me, holding my hand. I'm not sure if we could have gotten to the train station any other way.
We also resorted to punishment during this trip. Sam had actually been bitchy to us for most of the trip, just not as bad as that last day. There was no escaping her, since we were all stuck together in the tiny hotel room. At home, if she can't stop herself from screaming at us, she gets sent to her room, or we lock ourselves in our own room. She can scream all she wants as long as it's not hurting anyone else. But here, there was no way to get away from her, and she was literally hurting our ears with the volume of her screams, besides just making us insane with irritation. So we started taking away TV time. We couldn't take it away for the trip or we would be stuck with even less to entertain her, so we took away time when we returned home. She ended up losing five days of TV. I don't think that punishment had any effect on her behavior at all, but again, even after the fact, I can't think of a single thing we could have done to improve the situation. More naps would have helped, but here's what we would have missed: the carriage ride, FAO Schwartz, Mary Poppins, and the Statue of Liberty. I suppose if we could get our asses out of bed earlier, we could do things in the morning, have time for a short nap, and then do things in the afternoon, but we don't seem to be capable of that. It's easier in the summer, when days are longer. But a nap from 1-3pm rules out almost any afternoon activity during the winter.
But in the end, it was all worth it. It was a good trip, and we did a lot of the things that we missed last time. The first morning at the hotel, Sam's first words upon awakening were "I love New York." And when we got home, one of the first things she said was, "I want to go back." Me too, Sam.
We arrived mid-afternoon on Friday, and it was not raining or snowing, so we checked into our tiny hotel room, examined the room for bed bugs, unpacked, and then hit the town. We decided to go to FAO Schwarz, which we skipped last time because of the holiday crowds. We took the subway and ended up right at the horse-drawn carriages outside Central Park. We had missed that last time, too, for the same reason, so we took the opportunity. Of course, Sam loved it. Central Park looks strange all covered in snow. In fact, all of New York looked strange to me. Walking was a big hassle because of the puddles and slush everywhere. But the carriage ride was a really nice way to begin the trip. Afterwards, we got a hot dog from a street vendor, always one of my favorite things to do.
FAO Schwarz was okay, but not as grand as I had remembered it from when I visited as a child. Sam loved the Big Piano, but I don't remember much else that wowed her. We told her she could buy one thing and I was hoping she'd pick out something new and interesting, but she wasn't drawn to anything in particular so we ended up getting her a Fancy Nancy book. Somehow, we've raised a four-year-old who is completely oblivious to the idea of shopping and buying toys. She had a real hard time making a list of things she wanted for Christmas, too. Maybe we don't let her watch enough commercials.
We had dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant, which was so-so, and then called it a day. We had to do my progesterone injections twice a day in that tiny hotel room, which was a challenge, but not really all that big of a deal. I'm just glad we took the train and didn't have to carry all those needles on an airplane. I suppose we would have had to put them in a checked bag, and that would have been very scary. A lost bag could have meant a lost pregnancy.
The next morning, I discovered that our hotel was committing borderline fraud by claiming that the room had a shower. I suppose it's common in Manhattan, but there was just no water pressure at all on the twelfth floor. Lesson learned: from now on, request a room on a lower floor.
We had a date with Mary Poppins at 2pm, so we decided to hit the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the morning, have lunch there, and then head back to Broadway. We took the subway, but ended up having to walk a long way to get to the Met. Adam and I took turns carrying Sam for parts of the walk. I discovered the spotting when we arrived. Maybe it was all the walking, but I don't really think so. Regardless, the rest of the day is kind of vague to me, since all I could think about was the next trip to the bathroom. I liked the Met, but we didn't stay long. The building itself was pleasant, and we enjoyed another view of snow-covered Central Park through the floor to ceiling windows.
I also completely accidentally came across a sculpture called The Sun Vow, which is featured in Luc Travers' book, Touching the Art. After reading his book, this sculpture has a very personal meaning to me, and it was a thrill and a joy to stumble upon it and get to see the real thing instead of just photos. Unfortunately, most of the paintings we wanted to see were packed away in rows of glass display cases, while the gallery was being renovated. I can't wait to go back again in the future to see more.
We decided to take a cab to get back to Broadway, since I was trying to take it easy. For Sam, we used the Ride Safer Travel Vest I mentioned before. We strapped it on her, then buckled her into the cab. It's not the easiest thing to do, especially over a winter coat, but it really didn't take that long, and it's simple enough so that we felt very comfortable that we had hooked it up right and Sam was safe. We ended up using the vest about four times on the trip, and even Adam, who was skeptical about it being worth the cost of $120, was convinced that it was a great investment. (We even used the vest again this past weekend at home, to allow Sam to ride in the rental car her grandparents were driving on their visit. It was much easier than putting one of her car seats in their car.)
Samantha loved Mary Poppins, and I think Adam did too. I thought they did a really good job with it, but I'm just not much of a Mary Poppins fan, so it didn't thrill me. Also, I was tense about not being able to go to the bathroom for an hour and a half at a time. But still, if you have kids, I would definitely recommend the show. The singing and dancing were wonderful, and it was visually beautiful without being over-the-top flashy like I suspect some other shows are. My favorite part was when the statues in the park came to life and danced.
After that, there was just time for dinner, which we had an an Irish pub near our hotel. It was quite good, but that ended up being the best restaurant of the trip, unfortunately.
All we had planned for the next day, Sunday, was lunch with Harry Binswanger and Jean Moroney, so we decided to rest in the morning and do the Statue of Liberty in the afternoon. The weather was nice (sunny with a high of 34), so this was our chance, and we all really wanted to see it.
Lunch with the Binswangers was a highlight of the trip for me. We just had a really nice conversation, and they gave me some ideas for a project I'm working on. Sam got to meet their two cats, and anything that involves cats is a hit with Sam.
Afterwards, we took a cab to Battery Park and braved the cold on the ferry to Liberty Island. Before we got on, though, we had to upgrade our winter gear, so Sam got a pair of gloves in the official color of New York, black, and I got a tacky touristy knit hat with "I heart NY" on it. Adam acted embarrassed, but I loved wearing it. What's wrong with being a tourist?
The boat ride wasn't bad because we were in a completely enclosed area and there was even heat. We watched Lady Liberty grow larger and larger in the windows. Sam said, "Wow, she is humongous!" Adam said, "She sure is. And so is the idea that she represents." I told Sam the four-year-old version of the meaning of the statue. I told her that, a long time ago, no matter where you lived in the world, you were bossed around. No matter where you went, there was somebody telling you what to do. You were not free. But then people came to our country and made it a place where nobody was allowed to boss anyone else around. We are all free to do what we want here. And the news spread all over the world, and lots of people started to come here, because nobody likes to be bossed around. And another country thought we were so great that they gave us this statue to celebrate the fact that we have freedom. And that's what "liberty" means - freedom. So she is called the Statue of Liberty.
We walked all the way around Liberty Island and bought a cheap replica of the statue in the gift shop, and then we were ready to head back. It was really cold. I got a few good pictures of the Manhattan skyline, but downtown still makes me sad. We did see the beginnings of Freedom Tower. I think it's about halfway done. I hope that it will raise the skyline once again.
Before we got a cab, we picked up a couple of hot dogs and fed the buns to the pigeons. Of course, the pigeons were another hit with Sam. Adam, having lived in New York, just sees them as flying rats, but I don't mind them. At least, I didn't, until they started swooping down over my head from behind, trying to grab the hot dog right out of my hands! They actually bumped into my head as they made their passes. It was annoying, but also kind of cool.
We had a disaster of a dinner that night. I need to get on Yelp and trash that place.
The next day was Adam's workshop, so he hung out with us in the morning but then was gone for most of the day. Sam and I went to Toys-R-Us in Times Square. I think it's even better than FAO Schwarz. It has a real Ferris Wheel inside the store! Sam loved that. She was too scared to get a hug from Geoffrey the Giraffe, but I could see that she was less terrified of the enormous animal that she used to be of things like that. We spent about an hour browsing, and Sam's favorite toy was Thomas the Train. That's the second time she's been drawn to Thomas, but I think it's just too late to go down that expensive road with her. What a deprived child.
Despite the cold weather, we had ice cream in the store before heading out. We walked the fourteen blocks back to the hotel, stopping for more hot dogs for lunch on the way. Sam griped about the walking on this trip a lot more than last time. I think she's gotten lazy. But she did it. It helped to count down the blocks left to go: ten, nine, eight... Sam is very much into numbers right now.
When we got back, Sam had her first nap of the trip. She was really getting cranky by this point, and we had no plans for the rest of the day, so things started degenerating from there on out. She and I had dinner at the Irish pub again, but otherwise we were stuck in the hotel room since we had no energy for much else. The room was so small that TV was really the only option. My iPad was useless for movies because of the insanely stupid iTunes movie rental system, where you have to download the movie on to your regular computer, then transfer it to your iPad (which all takes quite a long time), and then you get a rented movie for 30 days, but only 24 hours after your hit "play" for the first time. So I only had time to put one movie on the thing, and it was only available for the train ride there. I'm really not much of a fan of the iPad. My Droid is better in every way, except, of course, it's only got the tiny phone screen.
So anyway, the next day, we woke up too late and were too tired to do anything, and our train was departing at 2pm, so we were stuck in the hotel room again. By this time, Sam was done, and she was being a complete bitch to both of us, constantly. It was really quite unbearable. She couldn't take a sip of water without spilling the whole bottle, she wouldn't eat much, and she wouldn't cooperate. I ended up really yelling at her, twice. I later apologized, but even now, I only half-regret it. It shocked her into tears, which stopped the yelling for a while, and even made her complacent enough to walk alongside me, holding my hand. I'm not sure if we could have gotten to the train station any other way.
We also resorted to punishment during this trip. Sam had actually been bitchy to us for most of the trip, just not as bad as that last day. There was no escaping her, since we were all stuck together in the tiny hotel room. At home, if she can't stop herself from screaming at us, she gets sent to her room, or we lock ourselves in our own room. She can scream all she wants as long as it's not hurting anyone else. But here, there was no way to get away from her, and she was literally hurting our ears with the volume of her screams, besides just making us insane with irritation. So we started taking away TV time. We couldn't take it away for the trip or we would be stuck with even less to entertain her, so we took away time when we returned home. She ended up losing five days of TV. I don't think that punishment had any effect on her behavior at all, but again, even after the fact, I can't think of a single thing we could have done to improve the situation. More naps would have helped, but here's what we would have missed: the carriage ride, FAO Schwartz, Mary Poppins, and the Statue of Liberty. I suppose if we could get our asses out of bed earlier, we could do things in the morning, have time for a short nap, and then do things in the afternoon, but we don't seem to be capable of that. It's easier in the summer, when days are longer. But a nap from 1-3pm rules out almost any afternoon activity during the winter.
But in the end, it was all worth it. It was a good trip, and we did a lot of the things that we missed last time. The first morning at the hotel, Sam's first words upon awakening were "I love New York." And when we got home, one of the first things she said was, "I want to go back." Me too, Sam.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Thing 1 and Thing 2
It's twins! We saw two heartbeats! We're not out of the woods yet, but I'm back to newsletters and calendar entries. And I'm adding on planning for Sam to continue in Montessori through third grade instead of homeschooling right after primary. And we've already started hitting up the grandparents for help this fall. And I'm thinking we need a minivan.
I'm assuming everything will be just fine, until and unless something goes wrong. I don't even feel too worried about getting past the eight week mark. That was a problem with my eggs which doesn't exist anymore. I'm just a normal pregnant lady now. Well, except for the part about twins.
Smelling salts, please!
Both of the embryos measured just right, and their heartbeats were strong and just the right speed. But one of the sacs measured a bit small. This could be a problem or it could be that it was too early to get an accurate measurement. We were really lucky to see the heartbeats at all. I'm not worried.
Adam dubbed them Thing 1 and Thing 2. He kind of stole the idea from Jenn, but I'm keeping it because it is irresistible, given the name of my blog and the fact that we already have Sam-I-Am.
I'm assuming everything will be just fine, until and unless something goes wrong. I don't even feel too worried about getting past the eight week mark. That was a problem with my eggs which doesn't exist anymore. I'm just a normal pregnant lady now. Well, except for the part about twins.
Smelling salts, please!
Both of the embryos measured just right, and their heartbeats were strong and just the right speed. But one of the sacs measured a bit small. This could be a problem or it could be that it was too early to get an accurate measurement. We were really lucky to see the heartbeats at all. I'm not worried.
Adam dubbed them Thing 1 and Thing 2. He kind of stole the idea from Jenn, but I'm keeping it because it is irresistible, given the name of my blog and the fact that we already have Sam-I-Am.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Hanging in There
I'm sorry for leaving you all hanging on Sunday. We were in New York and there has been no time to write again until now. I'll write about our trip later. I did manage to have some fun.
I haven't had any more spotting since Saturday. All that means is that I'm not having a miscarriage right now. It doesn't give me any more encouragement than that, though. I still think something is probably wrong. I am fully prepared to lose this pregnancy. No more newsletters or calendar entries for me.
I've spent the past four days going to the bathroom every half hour, and being scared to death every single time. But not checking is worse. After I check, I feel good for about ten minutes and then it starts to nag at me - what if I'm bleeding again right now? It's gotten less intense as time has gone by, but there has not been one trip to the bathroom when I didn't feel like I was going to see the beginning of the end.
I wonder if I would feel this stressed out if I hadn't just gone through four miscarriages. Actually, I think I was even more stressed out when this happened last year. The thought of having two miscarriages in a row was so horrifying that I could hardly contemplate the possibility. During the two weeks or so when I had no bleeding, I never felt comfortable, and I did the bathroom check the entire time. Then the spotting started again, and then it became real bleeding. I was in such denial. I scoured the chat boards for stories of women who had bled heavily but still had babies. I expected the bleeding to stop at any moment. But, really, I knew that pregnancy was a goner from the beginning. I don't really feel that way this time - I'm not sure it's a goner - I'm just not expecting success any more. And I suppose I've gotten used to miscarriages. The idea of two in a row was unthinkable. Five in a row blows my crow - five is just another number that means "multiple." I've learned how to deal with it, I guess.
The ultrasound is tomorrow - six weeks and one day along. I'm glad it is soon, but there's one problem with that. We were supposed to schedule it for closer to seven weeks, but Adam's and the doctor's schedule didn't allow it. So we might not see a heartbeat tomorrow, but that might not mean anything. It's questionable whether I'm far enough along to see a heartbeat at six weeks. So if we get good news - great! But if we get bad news, it will probably be indeterminate, so hell will continue.
I haven't had any more spotting since Saturday. All that means is that I'm not having a miscarriage right now. It doesn't give me any more encouragement than that, though. I still think something is probably wrong. I am fully prepared to lose this pregnancy. No more newsletters or calendar entries for me.
I've spent the past four days going to the bathroom every half hour, and being scared to death every single time. But not checking is worse. After I check, I feel good for about ten minutes and then it starts to nag at me - what if I'm bleeding again right now? It's gotten less intense as time has gone by, but there has not been one trip to the bathroom when I didn't feel like I was going to see the beginning of the end.
I wonder if I would feel this stressed out if I hadn't just gone through four miscarriages. Actually, I think I was even more stressed out when this happened last year. The thought of having two miscarriages in a row was so horrifying that I could hardly contemplate the possibility. During the two weeks or so when I had no bleeding, I never felt comfortable, and I did the bathroom check the entire time. Then the spotting started again, and then it became real bleeding. I was in such denial. I scoured the chat boards for stories of women who had bled heavily but still had babies. I expected the bleeding to stop at any moment. But, really, I knew that pregnancy was a goner from the beginning. I don't really feel that way this time - I'm not sure it's a goner - I'm just not expecting success any more. And I suppose I've gotten used to miscarriages. The idea of two in a row was unthinkable. Five in a row blows my crow - five is just another number that means "multiple." I've learned how to deal with it, I guess.
The ultrasound is tomorrow - six weeks and one day along. I'm glad it is soon, but there's one problem with that. We were supposed to schedule it for closer to seven weeks, but Adam's and the doctor's schedule didn't allow it. So we might not see a heartbeat tomorrow, but that might not mean anything. It's questionable whether I'm far enough along to see a heartbeat at six weeks. So if we get good news - great! But if we get bad news, it will probably be indeterminate, so hell will continue.
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