cal's five.5

Cal bear

zoo crew

Let’s all jive to Cal’s weekly five:

1. We visited Calvin’s G Aunt Vicki Wednesday at the Folsom Zoo. Although many of the animals had fled to their “behind the scenes” lairs to escape the midday heat, Cal got to see the tiger, several pairs of monkeys, a wolf, a sleeping bear, Arial the Owl, and lots of birdies. But his favorite by far was the ferret in Vicki’s office. Cal went nose to nose with the long, white rodent, which somewhat resembled Cal’s other animal admirer, my sister’s Chihuahua, Valentino. Funny animal glasses pictures capped off our enjoyable zoo safari. (As a shout out to my aunt – the zoo will miss you much; you’ve given your heart, hard work, and love to those animals and the education of them, and they are way better for it).

2. It is sublimely blissful to wake up with a baby in your bed. The sun is shining, the baby is smiling, and opportunity is everywhere. I just bask in the glow of these times.

3. Last night, Cal went to sleep cradled in my arms. This is big big. He usually prefers belly to belly, but because it’s been so hot I found myself encouraging the cradling. If he’s tired, he’ll let me lay him in my arms. It’s a precious view from my perch – soft, downy head hairs, elegant eye lashes touching his cheeks, and his mouth fluttering around binky. He is at peace and so am I.

4. I’m not going to lie, Cal stayed up until 9:30 p.m. Wednesday night. This is quite a bit later than his usual 7:30 p.m. bedtime. Although we had a guest over, I did not depart from the bedtime routine. Still, Cal persistently avoided night-night time throughout my rocking and hammock swinging and singing. After more than two hours of this, I was clearly tired and just laid us both down on the big bed. I stared into his round shiny blue eyes and started laughing out of sheer exhaustion. He laughed right back at me. We laughed in tandem for several minutes. That felt good. He fell asleep 10 minutes later.

5. Having a baby is like simultaneously injecting joy and difficulty into your life. Autonomy is stripped away. But love is infused in it. I am thankful that, in the last weeks, I've reclaimed a small slice of me time – I get to watch my boy sleep in his crib in the evening and then have a hot bath and a good read. He naturally wakes up around 9:30 p.m. for a snack and the whole Hughes clan crawls into bed. As we round the bend to month five, I feel like we're really settling into parenthood. But I won't get too comfortable on my haunches, I know new adventures are on the horizon.

Stay tuned for Cal's birth, I'm almost done writing it! Yes, you can think it: finally!

camping out back

the very magic, magic wand

roving library

good morning, Nana Anna

tiny trunks, cold creek water

love at first sight

bubbles!

Memorial Day we conquered Cal’s first camping adventure along with family on my aunt’s property. The place is shaded from the sun by majestic oaks and bordered by a creek that’s refreshing to wade in. All the while, civilization is just up the hill but still out of view and mind – allowing us to be enough removed to relax into nature but have the niceties of home in reach (shower, blankets, forgotten items, refrigerator of food). Therefore, it was the perfect camping scenario for us and baby.

Over our three-day, two-night stay, Calboy collected some new experiences including wading up to his small nubby knees in creek water, sleeping in our giant palace tent, waking up to rooster crows and legions of chirping birds, falling asleep to buzzing bugs and frog calls, meeting his first teal-feathered peacock, being a human canvass for natural bug spray (some said he smelled yummy from the lemon grass oil), and getting his second lifetime lick of avocado; of course, he seemed to like it. We gave him a wee bit mashed up on a spoon after his eyes pled involvement in the grownup meal that included nacho cheese (a recurring theme) breakfast burritos.

Cal drank in the baby gazing and doting which was in high supply. He had several laughing fits, and almost no crying ones. He got read to (his new faves are the Boynton books) and danced with. Saturday alone, three separate people rocked him to sleep at different intervals. But upon discovering that the sway of the hammock put Calvin to sleep like the snap of two fingers (the holy grail for baby devices), we used its restful powers for his remaining naps and even took it home on loan until we get our own. The magic hammock provoked ideas of manufacturing a pint-sized version of our own. We had fun brainstorming subsequent marketing schemes.

Cal chirped/screeched so loud Sunday evening it felt like he was calling after someone across the canyon. Then he’d admire his vocal prowess with smiles and more squealing. Saturday evening Cal was mesmerized by a sparkly “wand” with light up qualities and Saturday morning a bubble machine that produced thousands of rainbow orbs, enveloping him in their rise to the sky (yes we even had electricity at our camp site).

We used citronella candles in place of a fire. That, along with the natural oil helped Cal dodge skeeter bites. His cuter-than-a-button Hawaiian flower camping hat did its job protecting that perfect round face from harmful sunbeams.

So we forgot some stuff like mittens for cold hands at night that refuse to stay undercover, a warm hat, a much more extensive diaper stash, more blankets than we think we'll ever need, and the front carrier. But that’s what is so wonderful and relaxing about “test” camping trips – you can always run up the hill to the house you forgot was there, or make a quick trip in town to the store.

cal's five.4

Thanks for tolerating a little change of pace with the last post. Hey, I got a free book and a good prompt to chew on. Now back to our usual programming. This week's five:

1. Cal’s tongue. It is so utterly reflective of his emotions. I never pay attention to adult tongues because they just aren’t as cool (or a little creepy in the case of kiss), but Cal’s tongue dodges and dances. It’s the equivalent of a cat’s tale – it has a mind of its own. When he smiles BIG, it does a curly ballet.

2. We have “conversations” and I almost feel like I can understand Cal. Yesterday on the way home from work (Shaun and Cal always pick me up from the bus stop) we talked about the day’s happenings – why he was wearing a new outfit (blowout), whether he went outside for a walk (yes), how much he ate (a lot) etc. I got the most in-depth responses – long monologues of sound and expression ranging from furrowed brows (cute, cute, cute) and confused looks to smiles that broke over his face like ocean waves.

3. When I sing “If you’re happy and you know it and then you’re face will surely show it …” I point to his mouth, and he smiles on cue. It’s cute.

4. Cal went to sleep the last two nights without his goodnight wailings. He has a new bedtime: 7:30 p.m., a new routine, and a new plan: sleeping in his bouncy in his crib, moving toward actual cribbing sleeping. Aren't I brilliant?

5. I fielded the question: “Does he always smile like this?” at our Wed. morning parents’ group. Not a bad question to have to deal with. Not to sound like scratched CD, but Cal’s smiles can just do no wrong. His face is an orchestra when he smiles, with each feature doing its own part to convey happiness.

I miss that fuzzy head already, workdays are just too long ...

change for calvin

Almost every day of my adult life I’ve been hankered to change something about me. My husband says to swap attitudes if I ungraciously unload my workday grief upon him. As a teenager, my parents reminded me to behave and act maturely. My professors in college asked my classes to change study habits and pleaded us to show up. Advertisements everywhere ask me to second guess my looks. Parenting books unload their expert criticisms and advice. And the Internet tells me its stance on myriad topics. I receive daily e-mails showing me how to green my existence. Change a light bulb, change your life.

I’ve responded inch by inch. Sometimes things hit me hard in the stomach and I’ve taken quantifiable steps. Other times I’ve committed to changing and then stumbled and stumbled some more. Or later succeeded. Composting and remembering reusable grocery bags when shopping I’ll count among some of my delayed successes. Images of sea turtles muddling through my muck have helped in these cases.

But thinking about big changes in my life I can see how most have come along without big preparation or fanfare. A night of too much drinking in high school led me to look at and alter my relationship with alcohol. A class on the philosophy of religion goaded me to see creation and the Creator in a new light. A handful of books and Web sites have led me to awareness, to watching my imprint on the planet. I decided my college major on the suggestion of a hairdresser, changing my career trajectory. An article in a magazine prompted me to volunteer for a year as a mentor. A preschool job fermented my decision to have kids young.

And with each of these outside events, there are hundreds more that could have changed my views and changed my life. Yet there has to be something on the inside to spark it.

I also find that random things snag my shirt and stop me in my mindless motion and prompt action. Yesterday, while skimming a magazine, I met Hercules who, while living in a Chinese orphanage, weighed a meager six pounds at nine months. Tears welled in my eyes imagining the lifelong struggles of this beautiful, innocent soul who was born to this world just as eager and full of love as my own son but was sadly not met with doting parents or health care. The organization Love Without Boundaries provided him with necessary surgery and he was later put into loving hands through adoption. Later that day, I signed up to help in ways that I can.

And yet I certainly don’t act for every heart wrenching story I hear or do something for every 10-steps-for-a-better-life or 5-ways-to-save-the-planet guide I read. Laziness, forgetfulness, a feeling of being overwhelmed, or the notion of not having enough resources or time in one day afflict my desire to change.

But one thing that has made me more fertile ground for change is parenthood. My sweet son Cal, now 4 ½ months, has opened my heart in ways unimaginable. Not only is my love for him bottomless, but my love for the world has been magnified. I want for the environment to rebound and I pray for hope to reign so that he and his compatriots can be and live better. That won't happen while I'm sitting on the sidelines, so I've done some more on my end. It’s a simple request that pours from his blue eyes like a river every day: please leave the world better than how you found it, or at least don’t spoil it for me and my friends.

Today I found this quote inspirational: “One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice,” Mary Oliver said.

Sometimes we surprise ourselves and act differently the very next minute. We begin anew. Many more times we mean well and forget. And although we begin each day with our own varied reasons to change and to not, we often run up against our nature: that annoying fine print that reminds us we are, indeed, creatures of habit. However, that does not excuse us from the important work at hand. Change is necessary for our hope and happiness and the survival of our planet. The good news is that change begets change.

So please do not cease the hankering. We need our loved ones to remind us to act well. We need our books to plant that seed. And all those campaigns for change should not abort their efforts to get people to do so just because they operate against the odds; I, like many others, have tinkered with my behavior and intend to do so in the future. Tinkering matters, especially if everyone’s doing it.

The real challenge for me is to not beat up on myself when I've failed to make those changes I really meant to. Can you relate? Because it’s in that moment when we feel weighted and unworthy by our own inaction that some new opportunity for change, no matter how small, comes knocking and we’re too busy to answer. And we wouldn't want to miss it, especially for our kids and for Cal.
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This entry is meant to be a part of the series titled The Inconvenience of Change. During May, the blog Life Without Pants has partnered with Cool People Care to provoke the blogosphere to contemplate change, what it means, and what makes it so difficult in the hopes of prompting conversation and challenging people to stop trying and start doing. If you have a blog, please partake in this experiment and also receive a copy of the New Day Revolution, penned by Sam Davidson, the founder of Cool People Care.

battling bedtime, lessons in patience

I’m putting way too much thought into how Cal sleeps. True, our culture is obsessed with baby sleep (why?). *How well does he sleep?* – This is the question I field most often, not *How is your son doing?* As I mentioned a month back, Cal sleeps in our bed at night. I love this. But that’s after he’s been moved from the original place of rest, the bouncy chair. Also, he can’t fall asleep in the bed without nursing.

Our sleep situation doesn’t really need fixing. We get at least eight hours of sleep a night and I barely wake up to nurse when I’m called upon the three or so odd times. We all seem well rested.

And yet I’m still fumbling with the notion that Cal needs us or our bag of tricks to find sleep. Not that I really think he should have mastered it at this point, four months into his life on earth. But much to my dismay, three to six months is the typical window for “sleep training,” – a horrible sounding turn of events. Our doctor says, when we’re ready, to put him down in his bed and check on him every so often until he gets quiet. Dr. Cohen, in my latest library book find, advises parents to put babies to bed and come back at 7 a.m. They learn to self soothe after a few nights, he says. I’d be so guilt-ridden after one night that I’d catch his sleep aversion. I think we need another, gentler baby sleep book, which I’m working on.

Not only does Cal prefer his bouncy over all other bed surfaces (and don’t try to trick him, he knows what you’re up to), the run up to bed time gets him peeved. Cal is the sweetest bug until sleep comes knocking. Sometimes we can head this off if we start the whole rocking/soothing dance early enough. Other times, nothing seems to help. That was surely the case Saturday morning. I was at the end of my rope after trying to get him to nap after more than an hour, heaving out giant helpings of rocking, bouncing, cooing, and singing. Eventually, I just stuck him in the carrier and he dozed off that way.

Fortunately, that doesn’t happen often. Most of the time, Cal grumbles for five to ten minutes then slowly lets his lids drop like curtains over his almond eyes. But he still needs a little rocking to help him on his way – preferably bouncing on the exercise ball, his belly facing mine, and then some rocking in the bouncy.

My mom says that he’s just like me when I was a baby – a motion enthusiast. I now very much empathize with my dad who worked the trenches, walking the halls to soothe me. Cal got the same gene.

But where just a month ago I clung to the bouncy for dear life, I now see it as a crutch, especially because Cal has clearly outgrown it, as his feet remind me everyday by dangling over the side or bumping the control panel. So I have secret fears of needing a giant, custom-made bouncy for my big boy. 1-800-BIG-BOUNCY. I’m not alone here. I find solace in forums like this – it appears many babies have trouble descending into sleep alone in cribs or cosleepers. It’s actually a milestone that comes, like all milestones do, at its own pace.

Ggma says to assess my motives. What do I want and why do I want it? I want Cal to go to sleep without a fight. Why? Because it’d be a heck of a lot quieter and less stressful for me in the evening. And it makes me feel like a less-than-groovy mom – I know what Cal wants but I can’t give it to him, which is the hardest part of parenting so far. That’s also the selfish part of it. But I also just want Cal to always be happy. That’s the unrealistic part. Perhaps she’s right. Why do I want him to “sleep like a baby”? For me? For society? Or for him?

Sunday night we were all at his Nana’s and Grandpa’s house celebrating a birthday. Ladies were inside and men were on the patio. Cal had finally fallen to sleep first in my arms and then in his high chair on wheels where he likes to snooze as we roll him across bumpy tiles. Ggma had taken over rolling him and sat down. He woke quickly, feeling the change somehow between standing pushes and sitting down pushes. We all laughed at his sensitivity to movement.

Cal’s so full of life. He l-o-v-e-s sitting and standing and seeing. He dislikes being relegated to a boring bed that does not move. I can't really blame him here. I guess I should embrace his love of all things action and make amends with my silly side that sees sleep as forever just one step ahead of us. Cal always goes to sleep, even though it is an eventually and not a right now.

I do still want to impart the necessary tools of self soothing to my boy so he can be a happy sleeper someday. So back to the drawing table and finding a nighttime routine that’ll be kind to everyone (I'll let you know what works and what does not). Until we get there, I’ve found a little humor and some necessary quiet time for me goes a long way.

cal's five.3

And this week on the Cal channel …

1. At what age do babies stop making noises when they smile? I love *hearing* Cal smile from across the room, or when I’m in another room. It’s not a grunt or a laugh or a squeal. It is all of those and more. It reverberates in my brain throughout the day.

2. Cal continues to be a one-man chorus in the mornings. Squeals of delight cascade from his bouncy chair as he watches us eat breakfast. We do nothing and it gives him bountiful glee. I admire him so in these moments.

3. Cal + standing = true happiness. When you prop him up on his feet, Cal comes to life. He opens his mouth wide and his curious eyes peer about seeming to say, “I like this view much better.” I love standing him up and then letting him lean forward so I can plant one on his nose, or share some slobbery butterfly kisses.

4. On Wednesday, Cal was grabbing at both the Frogletooth and Fran and pulling them at the same time despite their attachment to the play gym apparatus. Yes, grabbing and pulling. He now handles his soft rattles all on his own. And sometimes he sits, albeit like the leaning tower of Pisa, at the table in his booster chair.

5. Before Cal got his shots part 2 on Wednesday, Cal gave the administering nurse the widest grin, which made my puckering heart ache that much more. Poor little thigh muscles that are as big as my hands.

5.1 Cal has grown almost six inches since the day he was born. Maybe he’s trying to keep pace with the cornstalks out back. Tonight I’m planning a stakeout to watch him grow ... anyone want to join?

mamadada

mama: lifts your legs like they’re cycling, makes reassurances, is roughly gentle with you, holds you close, has mastered sleepy time, is a natural at nurturing, gladly wears your projectiles, is humbled by your greatness, believes you are sacred, calls you sweet angel, cannot stop kissing your head, watches you sleep, sings often and off-key, aches for you, is the milk machine, likes when you hold her fingers tight, dislikes being away, follows your baby blues, wants to graze on your sweet and long back-head hairs, barely handles when you cry, sleeps curled around you.

dada: lifts you up high with the birds, makes mommy worry, is gently rough with you, pushes you forward, makes you smile wide and often, is a natural at silliness, melts in your eyes, is humbled by your greatness, believes you can already stand, calls you bubbas, snorts on your belly, cannot stop pinching your button nose, sings always, can speak in cry, is the entertainment machine, changes diapers without pause, follows your laugh, wants to munch on your puppy-dog strawberry-red cheeks, barely handles when you spit up, sleeps with you in his arms.

all filled up on mother's day

Over the weekend I couldn’t help thinking where I was this time last year .... The day before mother’s day I found out I was pregnant – a raspberry cluster of cells was accumulating in my body – and eight months hence my life would never be the same. For the duration of my pregnancy I couldn’t fathom giving birth to a baby … a human … a seriously complex life form. Even during labor I was skeptical. Although I was assured many times that you can’t stay pregnant forever. Good news 50 hours in. Still, I can’t believe what a miracle life is. Forget our minds, our bodies are truly divine.

Back to my original point, mother’s day was pretty cool. Shaun summed it up when I asked him if he had fun. “It was relaxing,” he said. We sprawled out under trees and enjoyed the whole wheatness of the whole earth festival. Cal was passed around as usual, and stared at. Staring at Cal is like indulging in chocolate chip cookies. You can't stop. It's helpful that he seems happiest with all the human entertainment and the large cast of fresh faces that smile at and sing to him. I hope so much socialization will cultivate someone who enjoys the company of people.

One of the truly fascinating things about babies is that they bloom right before you. It's like they grow up not just in days but while you turn your head. Sometime in the last week or two Cal found his thumb. Now he sucks on it like he always knew it was there, thumb couched in his left cheek, fingers dangling outside. For weeks we talked about him finding it and loving it, and he has. Onto the next thing.

On Tuesday he rolled for the first time (see video below, just seconds after that first roll). I was lying next to the boy (thankfully on the froggy play gym), goofing around when I saw swift movement to my left. Craning my neck, I discovered that Cal had done a 180 and was wriggling around, belly down. I flopped him back, like right siding a flailing beetle, to see if this first roll was a fluke. Sure enough, back to front, and, this time, front to back. Oh glory! I yelped for Shaun and we witnessed a few more rolls. He starts the rolls by bending his knees and using his legs for momentum to get to his side and then his stomach.

Cal can also stretch his neck out pretty far while on his belly, propped up on his elbows. He takes on a turtle-like quality when he does this, as Ggma pointed out. It's amazing that his tiny neck can support his adorable noggin with its bright blue eyes and amazing smiles.

For the remaining Tuesday and all day Wednesday we watched Cal roll. My early gift for Mother’s Day was a midweek Calboy vacation. I took both Tuesday and Wednesday off last week to nurse what I thought was a bad cold but turned out to be a wisdom tooth infection. Anyway, I got that sucker knocked out Friday, so I’m back to good form today.

To end this entirely unfocused entry I’d like to say that being a mother, I have a complete new appreciation for them. I mean, I’m so full of gratitude for my own mother (and father) who nourished me through babyhood and beyond. I was dependent on them for everything and they were there for me. Through wakeful nights they rocked and loved and fed me. Thank you mom. Thank you dad.

But mothering comes in lots of forms and I'm going to celebrate my nurturing, mothering self everyday, not just mother’s day, for it’s an act that not only calls on me to be a better more patient version of myself but brings a bounty of the kind of joy I've never known. It's what fills me to the brim.

rolly boy

simple, small, and spectacular

Our weekends are made up of simple routines punctuated with the joys of company and the discovery of being a new parent.

Saturday mornings I go to spin. Then it’s off to the farmers’ market with Cal in the carrier, where he falls asleep. Back at the house, we alternate Cal duty and cleaning or completing one of Shaun’s newest projects. Cal tags along on our chores or we come to his turf – lying beside him under dangling animals. We do diapers and change bibs like it’s second nature. We call to each other when Cal is doing something particularly funny or fascinating. There’s also usually some kind of get together or outing to mix things up.

It’s a fairly straightforward existence. But what I like is that Cal really gets to shine against the backdrop of our weekends, or really, our lives. Just like the simple piece of aluminum foil made wonderful by dangling it in the light (which Cal loves), our lives have been illuminated by Calboy.

Parenthood has only magnified my yearning for the simple life. Enjoying food and people are two of my biggest priorities. I probably sound way too old and boring for my 25 years, but marriage and children have changed me. And for the better. In a way, having a baby has brought me back to square one. Back to experiencing what a wonderful adventure it is to be human and be alive on this funny planet, if only for a short time.

My dad was right in saying that being in a baby’s presence gives us a glimpse into where we’ve all come from and where we’ll all return to. It’s pretty special.

By now, our routine feels as comfortable as an old shoe (I couldn't have imagined that 3.5 months ago). I can’t believe Cal's been here a mere 4 months. But eventually, Shaun’s new job, the challenges of parenting, and a bigger family will most likely present new changes and challenges make it harder to live so simply. But I’m hoping I can carry a small piece of these precious times – when weekends were filled with simple stuff, like gawking at cute little Cal – and return to it when life gets crazy.

cal’s five.2

This week’s picks:

1. Rise and shine. Where were you at 6:25 this morning? Shaun and I were staring at Cal climb out of sleep land. First he moves his head and makes noises, and then he stretches – pulling his arms over his head, squishing his face, straitening his legs, and elevating his tummy. Finally he opens his eyes, which meet our own. Sometimes his lids close once more. But when they’re open for good, Cal’s full of smiles. And every morning, like many times throughout the day, all we can say, because we are dazzled by his Calness, is: “he’s so cute.”

2. Rocking in the glider con Cal. Weeks upon weeks ago, my aunt called my mom to tell her about a free glider. My dad picked it up and brought it to our house. Shaun painted it a dark blue. It was outside for at least a week “airing out.” Then outside again after repainting a part. Finally, it is in our house, padded with pillows and a cushion. It gets lots of use. Cal frequently falls asleep for the night to the sway of the chair, either nestled in my or Shaun’s lap. The soothing motion even brings me to the brink of bedtime.

3. Reading On the Day You Were Born with Cal and thinking about the day he was born, which was the stuff of magic (I'll be posting my birth soon).

4. Cal resting in my lap and me moving his hands around to the beat of the kiddy songs performed at the local opera house. Cal smiled and watched keenly as I attempted to sing along.

5. Errands with Cal on Wednesday; such a mundane activity, but it sticks out in my brain because this was one of my first attempts to travel extensively with just him and I. He did not cry in the car and fell asleep in the carrier. What a relief that we can venture out into the world together.