Ila said her first word. Sure it was two weeks ago, Saturday the 23rd, and it's taken me an eon to find a minute to write this...but she said her first word!!! Egg, long aaaaaa, silent g. We are particularly fond of the face contortions that go along with this word.
Our friends were over for dinner, and Ila started saying "egg," with her own, charming pronunciation, of course. I was doubtful that she was actually saying "egg" at first, but our friend Jenny was sure. Ila kept repeating it, and Jenny was right. Egg it is. I was trying to get Kiyomi to bet with me about what her first word would be. She thought it would be something sweet and affectionate, like one of our cat's names. I thought it would be some object that she loved, like "keys,"her current favorite object in the world. Ila loves her toy eggs and actual eggs, so I think I kind of won that bet.
Other than that, she has added some more sounds, including a pretty adorable soft roar whenever she sees pictures of lions, tigers, bears, leopards, etc. In fact, she is really into repeating animal sounds. She's sort of meowed and barked, kind of quacked, done a little oinking and clucking, along with some serious fish gulping, cow mooing, and roaring. I find myself wondering if she's going to be autistic in the Temple Grandin style of autism, you know, really in touch with animals, seeing and thinking like them. This is, perhaps, a ridiculous worry, but it is what I think of each time she adds a new animal sound.
Right this moment, she is fake coughing and covering her mouth. Then, she looks at me expectantly. If I don't follow suit fast enough, she covers my mouth for me - with her hand - and fake coughs, with a look that's a little like, "Okay, Mama, this is easy. You can handle it." Technically this is Ila time, I should be playing with her. And she obviously feels this. But, I wanted to jot a quick note on her first word before I forget it all. See, she's dumping water onto the floor from her sippy cup. Hmm, now she's feeding me a blueberry she put in her mouth then took out to put into mine. Mmmm. Retribution? Or regular toddler antics?
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Pee and Poo and Lots of Shoes
Ila is an actual little person now. She walks around the house with a real sense of purpose, even if her mission seems to be nothing more than to pick up a sock from the bedroom, carry it to the dining room, back to the living room, before leaving it on the couch in order to knock over a stack of books. I sort of wish she could write a "to do" list. I'd like to see that list. She's obviously very busy because she walks around with her hands resting on her back, like she's surveying all the work to be done around her.
One important task is to find every shoe in the house, point to it, and say, "Ah ha ha ha" like The Count from Seasame Street. Kiyomi started this by saying, "One shoe, ah ah ha ha; two shoes, ah ha ha ha" whenever she removed Ila's shoes. Ila likes to actually bring me any of my shoes she finds, doing her impression of the number obsessed vampire all the while. I thank her, though I'm usually already wearing a pair of shoes. I feel like I should do something with the shoe as she looks up at me expectantly. How many times can you change shoes in a day, though?
Along with her shoe-spotting call, she still does her fish impression - popping her lips open and closed like a fish - and moos like a cow, well sort of like a cow, maybe a cow just learning to moo. Actually she moos for pretty much every animal. But, we're not picky around here. Who's to say giraffes don't moo? I don't know what giraffes sound like, may as well say they moo. She also has added a fairly reliable "no" head shake. She has been shaking her head when I say "not or "no" or "don't" for a while, as well as nodding when I say "hmmm-mm" or "yes." However, she recently started shaking her head in response to questions from me. As in, "Ila, let's go potty. Do you need to go potty?" She shakes her head.
Well, I say her head shaking is "fairly reliable" because yesterday, after putting her on the potty, asking her if she needed to pee, and taking her off because she shook her head, I got peed on. Yup, about 60 seconds after taking her off the toilet, before getting her into a new diaper, she just peed on me. Right down my stomach and leg. Warm pee, hmmmm.
Actually, she's been a little resistant to the toilet of late. We are not really potty training exactly; we've just been putting her on the toilet a number of times a day since she was about eight months old. She often goes on the toilet, and we don't try to pressure her or congratulate her or draw a lot of attention to it. We just read aloud, hang out, and she goes. It's been very mellow and pretty successful in introducing the potty and keeping her cued into her body.
She has, for many months, gone poop mostly on the toilet. But this week, she has not signed or wanted to go on the toilet. She seems to want to go in her diaper. Very interesting. I sort of think she is very distracted and excited by her increasing abilities to do things...so she doesn't really want to take a break to go to the bathroom. Anyway, I just keep reminding myself it doesn't really matter that much, but I can feel the worrier in me trying to claw her way to the surface of my thoughts. "Maybe we're overwhelming her. Maybe she feels anxious. Maybe she is angry." I can't exactly trace the logic of these worries necessarily...
In addition to her "no" head shake, she added the milk sign, we call it the nursing sign, to her repertoire. This has become a favorite sign, especially when she's already nursing. While on one breast, she makes the gesture and points to the other breast. She wants access to both I guess. A few times she has popped off one, sat up, nursed for a second on the other before returning to the original. She'll do this a few times in a row. I laugh, but I feel like maybe I should be discouraging this?
In fact, I find myself wondering this about a lot of things lately. Should I tell her "no" when she climbs up onto the couch or the chair or the bed or basically anything climbable? (She's hit her climbing groove, I think.) Or, should I just try to show her, over and over and over, how to sit far away from the edge once she's climbed up? And, how to get down backwards and safely? And just try to always be there to spot her? Parenting certainly gets more complex as a child gets older.
I find myself wondering, in particular, what her brain is capable of even learning. Obviously, a lot. The human brain, even at the age of one, is an amazing, amazing learning machine. Still, some concepts are just impossible at this point. To use the climbing example, I'm pretty sure that she does not learn from a fall. She climbs on the couch, bounces around unsafely, launches herself off the front first rather than using a safer method, falls, is upset...and she will do the same exact thing 5 minutes later. She is obviously not "learning from her mistakes" at this point. (Does anyone ever?) I think what she's learning is something else entirely. What that is is up for debate. Gross motor skills in the form of mad couch dismounts? Like, she'll do this over and over until she can stick it?
Whatever it is, she is certainly all about developing physical movement and coordination at this point. She has begun to dance standing up, she used to do the bouncing on her butt form of dancing. Now she spins, flaps her arms around, bounces, sways, and - my favorite - does a little backwards walk...maybe a baby moonwalking move? She knows the word "dance," too, and will sway or bounce when dancing is suggested. Very charming.
In reality, she's very into aping all kinds of things she sees us do. Carrying around a bag, putting things into it, patting her stuffed toys and making a "mmmm" lovey sound, hugging, kissing. It's so weird to think this little creature who loves to do what her mamas do will one day be an adolescent who needs to break away and run the opposite of what we do. So bizarre. I particularly love how she copies sounds we make. Let's say I'm frustrated with something and I heave an irritated sigh. She often copies the sighing sound, which makes it hard to continue to be so aggravated. She copies the sound of nose-blowing, coughing, grumbling, groaning. It's pretty hilarious. My personal favorite is when she copies us saying, "wow," like the in the video below. (Also, check out how she's rockin' an unbuttoned onesie without a diaper. Kind of the baby equivalent to a wife-beater, no?)
Two of my favorite new develops are her new desire for interaction with other little people and her cuddling. As soon she started to really walk around - for transportation rather than sport - she became more interested in the other small children she encountered. She's definitely graduating to the age of interaction and play with other little ones. It's exciting to watch. She is less grabby than I thought she would be. She used to grab other babies faces as her go to move. Now, she likes to give kisses and pats. It's all pretty adorable. As far as cuddling with us, it isn't really new for her, but she has just gotten to be sort of skilled at it. She loves to snuggle in the mornings, and this is probably one of my favorite things in the entire universe. Ever. Spooning her as she nestles into me. Kissing her; being kissed by her. It's so sweet and lovely, even if her kisses are still crazy, sloppy open-mouthed affairs.
One important task is to find every shoe in the house, point to it, and say, "Ah ha ha ha" like The Count from Seasame Street. Kiyomi started this by saying, "One shoe, ah ah ha ha; two shoes, ah ha ha ha" whenever she removed Ila's shoes. Ila likes to actually bring me any of my shoes she finds, doing her impression of the number obsessed vampire all the while. I thank her, though I'm usually already wearing a pair of shoes. I feel like I should do something with the shoe as she looks up at me expectantly. How many times can you change shoes in a day, though?
Along with her shoe-spotting call, she still does her fish impression - popping her lips open and closed like a fish - and moos like a cow, well sort of like a cow, maybe a cow just learning to moo. Actually she moos for pretty much every animal. But, we're not picky around here. Who's to say giraffes don't moo? I don't know what giraffes sound like, may as well say they moo. She also has added a fairly reliable "no" head shake. She has been shaking her head when I say "not or "no" or "don't" for a while, as well as nodding when I say "hmmm-mm" or "yes." However, she recently started shaking her head in response to questions from me. As in, "Ila, let's go potty. Do you need to go potty?" She shakes her head.
Well, I say her head shaking is "fairly reliable" because yesterday, after putting her on the potty, asking her if she needed to pee, and taking her off because she shook her head, I got peed on. Yup, about 60 seconds after taking her off the toilet, before getting her into a new diaper, she just peed on me. Right down my stomach and leg. Warm pee, hmmmm.
Actually, she's been a little resistant to the toilet of late. We are not really potty training exactly; we've just been putting her on the toilet a number of times a day since she was about eight months old. She often goes on the toilet, and we don't try to pressure her or congratulate her or draw a lot of attention to it. We just read aloud, hang out, and she goes. It's been very mellow and pretty successful in introducing the potty and keeping her cued into her body.
She has, for many months, gone poop mostly on the toilet. But this week, she has not signed or wanted to go on the toilet. She seems to want to go in her diaper. Very interesting. I sort of think she is very distracted and excited by her increasing abilities to do things...so she doesn't really want to take a break to go to the bathroom. Anyway, I just keep reminding myself it doesn't really matter that much, but I can feel the worrier in me trying to claw her way to the surface of my thoughts. "Maybe we're overwhelming her. Maybe she feels anxious. Maybe she is angry." I can't exactly trace the logic of these worries necessarily...
In addition to her "no" head shake, she added the milk sign, we call it the nursing sign, to her repertoire. This has become a favorite sign, especially when she's already nursing. While on one breast, she makes the gesture and points to the other breast. She wants access to both I guess. A few times she has popped off one, sat up, nursed for a second on the other before returning to the original. She'll do this a few times in a row. I laugh, but I feel like maybe I should be discouraging this?
In fact, I find myself wondering this about a lot of things lately. Should I tell her "no" when she climbs up onto the couch or the chair or the bed or basically anything climbable? (She's hit her climbing groove, I think.) Or, should I just try to show her, over and over and over, how to sit far away from the edge once she's climbed up? And, how to get down backwards and safely? And just try to always be there to spot her? Parenting certainly gets more complex as a child gets older.
I find myself wondering, in particular, what her brain is capable of even learning. Obviously, a lot. The human brain, even at the age of one, is an amazing, amazing learning machine. Still, some concepts are just impossible at this point. To use the climbing example, I'm pretty sure that she does not learn from a fall. She climbs on the couch, bounces around unsafely, launches herself off the front first rather than using a safer method, falls, is upset...and she will do the same exact thing 5 minutes later. She is obviously not "learning from her mistakes" at this point. (Does anyone ever?) I think what she's learning is something else entirely. What that is is up for debate. Gross motor skills in the form of mad couch dismounts? Like, she'll do this over and over until she can stick it?
Whatever it is, she is certainly all about developing physical movement and coordination at this point. She has begun to dance standing up, she used to do the bouncing on her butt form of dancing. Now she spins, flaps her arms around, bounces, sways, and - my favorite - does a little backwards walk...maybe a baby moonwalking move? She knows the word "dance," too, and will sway or bounce when dancing is suggested. Very charming.
In reality, she's very into aping all kinds of things she sees us do. Carrying around a bag, putting things into it, patting her stuffed toys and making a "mmmm" lovey sound, hugging, kissing. It's so weird to think this little creature who loves to do what her mamas do will one day be an adolescent who needs to break away and run the opposite of what we do. So bizarre. I particularly love how she copies sounds we make. Let's say I'm frustrated with something and I heave an irritated sigh. She often copies the sighing sound, which makes it hard to continue to be so aggravated. She copies the sound of nose-blowing, coughing, grumbling, groaning. It's pretty hilarious. My personal favorite is when she copies us saying, "wow," like the in the video below. (Also, check out how she's rockin' an unbuttoned onesie without a diaper. Kind of the baby equivalent to a wife-beater, no?)
Two of my favorite new develops are her new desire for interaction with other little people and her cuddling. As soon she started to really walk around - for transportation rather than sport - she became more interested in the other small children she encountered. She's definitely graduating to the age of interaction and play with other little ones. It's exciting to watch. She is less grabby than I thought she would be. She used to grab other babies faces as her go to move. Now, she likes to give kisses and pats. It's all pretty adorable. As far as cuddling with us, it isn't really new for her, but she has just gotten to be sort of skilled at it. She loves to snuggle in the mornings, and this is probably one of my favorite things in the entire universe. Ever. Spooning her as she nestles into me. Kissing her; being kissed by her. It's so sweet and lovely, even if her kisses are still crazy, sloppy open-mouthed affairs.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Learning is fun...?
I'm in a “fresh start” mood. This has been brought on by some combination of coming home from a trip (this often puts me in this mood) and the book that I'm reading. It's The Dirty Life by Kristin Kimball about the author's journey from life as a free lance journalist living in Manhattan to a wildly new existence on a run-down farm in northern New York state with a zealous, passionate farmer. She initially meets him for an interview but, within about a year, winds up engaged to him and working harder than she ever has to breathe life into this old farm with him. It's invigorating to read. I know myself well enough to not trust the little romantic voice in my head that says, as it probably does to most who read this type of book, “Yes! Become a farmer! Forget all these other trivial, unimportant things! Live on the land, of the land, with the land! Woo hoo!” (At this point, the theme song from Green Acres should be playing in your head.)
Farming is incredibly hard. Her description is not glamorous or rose-tinted. The first year seemed truly grueling. Still, this book inspires in me a feeling of courage, daring. I may not become a farmer, but I want to live a brave life! To do the things that most resonate with me but also terrify me. This feeling, as everyone who has ever made-then broken-an exciting New Year's resolution knows, is fleeting. Real change is slow-going and requires steady effort, though the effort may not be uniform. I do believe in sudden, inspired break-throughs, like deciding to leave everything behind and become a farmer. But, the real work is shifting your outlook and energy slowly, daily, thoughtfully...like actually doing the daily work of farming.
This is all a very long way to say that real change is dull and hard, which many have observed before me...and, yet, feels so true that each time I re-realize it, it does not even seem hackneyed. Perhaps I just love short cuts, which is to say I'm human. Or, I like the feeling of imagining sweeping, awe-inspiring changes to my life, which is also to say that I'm human...or at least one type of human. Still, maybe I can do it. Make whatever changes really matter, that is. There is a new pressure I feel in all this because I have a child. I would like to live, as I've said before, in a manner that is contented, confident and well-grounded. I would like to model equanimity, peace, and a deep connection to my life for Ila. I don't need to be happy all the time or certain of everything...I just don't want to surround her with restless, anxious energy.
So, now, I might think to myself, “What will I do today? What can I do today? What do I want to do today?” Think on the small scale. Not this: What am I doing with my time? I should be applying for grad school or maybe...should I write today? Will I write something today or just not do it as usual? Why don't I write more? I am so lazy. But that's negative. I should be positive. I will write. Soon. In fact, I should write every day for a block of time – during Ila's naps! Yes, during Ila's nap, I will write every single day. That is my plan. Whew! Now I feel direction. Maybe I will sit down and my a schedule for myself. Block out the writing time. Get ready to write. But not today. Today I don't have time to write. I need to make a year plan; no, a five year plan...
This morning, I was thinking this to myself, “What will I do today?” Then, some challenging energy in me upped the ante: I thought, maybe I will just do this each moment I notice myself planning, worrying, wondering, feeling pulled in different directions. I can say, “What will I do in this moment?” This is, for me, the extreme micro level. It seems insane and ridiculous on the one hand. An almost irresponsible letting go of planning, idea making. And, on the other hand, it is deeply freeing and appealing. If you spend your life as you spend each day...well, I guess this approach makes sense. It just runs counter to every habit in me.
One advantage I've found in having a child is that I am actually pulled back into the present moment pretty consistently. Last night, in the relative cool and dark of our bedroom, Ila lay next to me with her cheek on my breast, her legs sprawled over my thigh, her little body snuggled close. It was so sweet and lovely. I had been thinking the moment before, “God, I'm tired, but I need to get some things done tonight. When is she going to fall asleep?! Fall asleep already!” Fortunately, just as I felt an ugly resistance and anger rising in me, some wisdom in me that surprises me each time it surfaces, said, “But what about right now? Right now is so deeply pleasant. It won't always be like this. Enjoy it.” I relaxed and noticed how sweet and close she was.
While this is very touching and grounding, the flip side is that you really do have to cede much control over your time and life. (Or maybe just the illusion of control?) Anyway, the other advantage that goes along with being pulled into the present by a child is harder to appreciate. You also have ample opportunities to recognize how futile planning, organizing, analyzing, sense-making, pattern making can be. You have the opportunity to see this, embrace this truth, let go of trying to control, live in a more accepting, present manner. Or you can get angry about how little control you have and resist it. I volley back and forth between these two responses.
For instance, I did have a number of things I wanted to do last night, things I cannot do when Ila is awake. But, she was restless...so it took a while for her to fall asleep. By that time, I was pretty tired myself (9 PM; pretty pathetic, I know) and decided to just go to sleep. It was sweet to lie with her and enjoy her little being...but I also did have to give up getting anything else done. Does that matter much? Probably not, but in the moment choices like that are pretty difficult.
I just saw a couple friends in LA who have a brand new little baby. The exhaustion and bewilderment that go along with a newborn were palpable in their house. I immediately remembered vividly Ila's first couple months. Woah. That whole having a new baby thing was intense. What I found myself thinking about as I talked with these friends was how the first year, for me, was a series of realizations that I needed to let go and accept whatever was going on, however unpleasant it was. Most of the exercises in acceptance were around lack of sleep, particularly around accepting that Ila was not sleeping, not going to sleep, not even sleepy in the least although Kiyomi and I were both exhausted and it was 3 AM. But, there are other lessons too. The Lesson of Having Only Two Hands, two hands full of a baby and a thousand other things to do with your hands, like folding laundry or washing dishes or checking email. The Lesson of a Constantly Needy Baby that does not want to be put down even for a second, even for you to run to the toilet or make yourself a snack. Each of these is fun in its own way.
What was particularly upsetting about all of this for me was that I had to do it over and over. I want it to work this way: face something challenging - say, long periods of wakefulness at night - recognize the reality of the situation, relax into, accept it, see my resistance, give up resistance as much as I can. And be done with it. I shouldn't have to do that over and over, right? I already accepted that I'm not getting the sleep that I want. Why do I have to learn this lesson over and over? Why do I have to find a new level of resistance in myself every time, a new way that I have to let go! Sheesh. Who knew I had such a plodding, linear view of life – do something, check it off the list? This is, apparently, not at all what life is actually like.
Anyway, I will try to lap up the fun, tender, hilarious moments...or at least notice them as they are happening! Ila is in a particularly cute phase. She has begun to walk in earnest, as a means of transportation rather than an occasional recreational past time. It started about two weeks ago. She would let go of whatever furniture she was hanging on to and toddle a few feet, looking pretty exhilarated and puffing little excited breaths. Now, she is truly a walker. She gets more steady every day; she's looking less and less like a little shuffling Frankenstein baby, short arms out in front T-Rex style. It's almost unspeakably adorable to watch her teetering forward as fast as she can go, then pivoting recklessly around to come back to you, smiling and wrinkling up her nose. She also makes all kinds of wild vocalizations, everything from “wowwowwaaahwow” to “bababababa” to strange breathy sounds. What cute creatures one-year-olds are. That being said, she is also much more irritated when I take something away from her or when she wants something she is not supposed to have...she likes to employ a cry that varies in its authenticity to protest anything she doesn't like. All of this is extremely fascinating to watch. I'm curious to see her personality as it unfolds and develops.
One of the sweetest and always surprising treats are those times when she just cracks up. There's really no way to know why certain things are hilarious to her, and she's a very sophisticated audience – something will only make her laugh once. So, it's hard to replicate these moments or make her laugh this hard. Another little lesson in just enjoying these lovely moments without clinging to them? So, I guess it's best to simply observe and enjoy those times when she laughs and laughs.
Farming is incredibly hard. Her description is not glamorous or rose-tinted. The first year seemed truly grueling. Still, this book inspires in me a feeling of courage, daring. I may not become a farmer, but I want to live a brave life! To do the things that most resonate with me but also terrify me. This feeling, as everyone who has ever made-then broken-an exciting New Year's resolution knows, is fleeting. Real change is slow-going and requires steady effort, though the effort may not be uniform. I do believe in sudden, inspired break-throughs, like deciding to leave everything behind and become a farmer. But, the real work is shifting your outlook and energy slowly, daily, thoughtfully...like actually doing the daily work of farming.
This is all a very long way to say that real change is dull and hard, which many have observed before me...and, yet, feels so true that each time I re-realize it, it does not even seem hackneyed. Perhaps I just love short cuts, which is to say I'm human. Or, I like the feeling of imagining sweeping, awe-inspiring changes to my life, which is also to say that I'm human...or at least one type of human. Still, maybe I can do it. Make whatever changes really matter, that is. There is a new pressure I feel in all this because I have a child. I would like to live, as I've said before, in a manner that is contented, confident and well-grounded. I would like to model equanimity, peace, and a deep connection to my life for Ila. I don't need to be happy all the time or certain of everything...I just don't want to surround her with restless, anxious energy.
So, now, I might think to myself, “What will I do today? What can I do today? What do I want to do today?” Think on the small scale. Not this: What am I doing with my time? I should be applying for grad school or maybe...should I write today? Will I write something today or just not do it as usual? Why don't I write more? I am so lazy. But that's negative. I should be positive. I will write. Soon. In fact, I should write every day for a block of time – during Ila's naps! Yes, during Ila's nap, I will write every single day. That is my plan. Whew! Now I feel direction. Maybe I will sit down and my a schedule for myself. Block out the writing time. Get ready to write. But not today. Today I don't have time to write. I need to make a year plan; no, a five year plan...
This morning, I was thinking this to myself, “What will I do today?” Then, some challenging energy in me upped the ante: I thought, maybe I will just do this each moment I notice myself planning, worrying, wondering, feeling pulled in different directions. I can say, “What will I do in this moment?” This is, for me, the extreme micro level. It seems insane and ridiculous on the one hand. An almost irresponsible letting go of planning, idea making. And, on the other hand, it is deeply freeing and appealing. If you spend your life as you spend each day...well, I guess this approach makes sense. It just runs counter to every habit in me.
One advantage I've found in having a child is that I am actually pulled back into the present moment pretty consistently. Last night, in the relative cool and dark of our bedroom, Ila lay next to me with her cheek on my breast, her legs sprawled over my thigh, her little body snuggled close. It was so sweet and lovely. I had been thinking the moment before, “God, I'm tired, but I need to get some things done tonight. When is she going to fall asleep?! Fall asleep already!” Fortunately, just as I felt an ugly resistance and anger rising in me, some wisdom in me that surprises me each time it surfaces, said, “But what about right now? Right now is so deeply pleasant. It won't always be like this. Enjoy it.” I relaxed and noticed how sweet and close she was.
While this is very touching and grounding, the flip side is that you really do have to cede much control over your time and life. (Or maybe just the illusion of control?) Anyway, the other advantage that goes along with being pulled into the present by a child is harder to appreciate. You also have ample opportunities to recognize how futile planning, organizing, analyzing, sense-making, pattern making can be. You have the opportunity to see this, embrace this truth, let go of trying to control, live in a more accepting, present manner. Or you can get angry about how little control you have and resist it. I volley back and forth between these two responses.
For instance, I did have a number of things I wanted to do last night, things I cannot do when Ila is awake. But, she was restless...so it took a while for her to fall asleep. By that time, I was pretty tired myself (9 PM; pretty pathetic, I know) and decided to just go to sleep. It was sweet to lie with her and enjoy her little being...but I also did have to give up getting anything else done. Does that matter much? Probably not, but in the moment choices like that are pretty difficult.
I just saw a couple friends in LA who have a brand new little baby. The exhaustion and bewilderment that go along with a newborn were palpable in their house. I immediately remembered vividly Ila's first couple months. Woah. That whole having a new baby thing was intense. What I found myself thinking about as I talked with these friends was how the first year, for me, was a series of realizations that I needed to let go and accept whatever was going on, however unpleasant it was. Most of the exercises in acceptance were around lack of sleep, particularly around accepting that Ila was not sleeping, not going to sleep, not even sleepy in the least although Kiyomi and I were both exhausted and it was 3 AM. But, there are other lessons too. The Lesson of Having Only Two Hands, two hands full of a baby and a thousand other things to do with your hands, like folding laundry or washing dishes or checking email. The Lesson of a Constantly Needy Baby that does not want to be put down even for a second, even for you to run to the toilet or make yourself a snack. Each of these is fun in its own way.
What was particularly upsetting about all of this for me was that I had to do it over and over. I want it to work this way: face something challenging - say, long periods of wakefulness at night - recognize the reality of the situation, relax into, accept it, see my resistance, give up resistance as much as I can. And be done with it. I shouldn't have to do that over and over, right? I already accepted that I'm not getting the sleep that I want. Why do I have to learn this lesson over and over? Why do I have to find a new level of resistance in myself every time, a new way that I have to let go! Sheesh. Who knew I had such a plodding, linear view of life – do something, check it off the list? This is, apparently, not at all what life is actually like.
Anyway, I will try to lap up the fun, tender, hilarious moments...or at least notice them as they are happening! Ila is in a particularly cute phase. She has begun to walk in earnest, as a means of transportation rather than an occasional recreational past time. It started about two weeks ago. She would let go of whatever furniture she was hanging on to and toddle a few feet, looking pretty exhilarated and puffing little excited breaths. Now, she is truly a walker. She gets more steady every day; she's looking less and less like a little shuffling Frankenstein baby, short arms out in front T-Rex style. It's almost unspeakably adorable to watch her teetering forward as fast as she can go, then pivoting recklessly around to come back to you, smiling and wrinkling up her nose. She also makes all kinds of wild vocalizations, everything from “wowwowwaaahwow” to “bababababa” to strange breathy sounds. What cute creatures one-year-olds are. That being said, she is also much more irritated when I take something away from her or when she wants something she is not supposed to have...she likes to employ a cry that varies in its authenticity to protest anything she doesn't like. All of this is extremely fascinating to watch. I'm curious to see her personality as it unfolds and develops.
One of the sweetest and always surprising treats are those times when she just cracks up. There's really no way to know why certain things are hilarious to her, and she's a very sophisticated audience – something will only make her laugh once. So, it's hard to replicate these moments or make her laugh this hard. Another little lesson in just enjoying these lovely moments without clinging to them? So, I guess it's best to simply observe and enjoy those times when she laughs and laughs.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Growing Up
"Mother's body is baby's natural habitat." I read that in a book on breastfeeding when I was pregnant, and I've thought of it a lot in the last year. When she was a tiny new baby it seemed very obviously true that I was the mother ship, and Ila was the dependent little satellite. Strangely, this phrase popped into my head even more as she got older. I'm more conscious of her connection to me as she navigates the world a teeny bit more on her own. This is sort of contradictory, but she seems even more connected to me now, though she was completely dependent on me before. Perhaps it is that she now chooses to check in with me, look at me, snuggle with me. I feel so physically connected to her, even now as she wants to explore more. According to Chinese medicine, a mother and child are energetically connected for the first three years. So, traditionally, if you needed to treat the child, you would look at the mother. This idea also feels sort of accurate to me. Ila is still nursing quite a lot, so, in many ways, we still are still literally physically connected. I don't know why this is surprising to me because it is pretty obvious, but I feel more and more connected with her. What I'm wondering is, will I feel this when she's an adult?Seriously, I've been thinking about how odd it must be to have all these memories of your little baby - some of which are probably pretty vivid - when you are interacting with your adult child. It seems very uncanny. Sort of related to this, on Ila's birthday last week, I really was thinking about laboring with her. I wonder if I will often think of this on her birthday in years to come. It seems sort of cliche, doesn't it? Your birthday, mother regaling you with how hard her labor was, etc. etc. Well, maybe this is only because it was just a year ago, but it was pretty connected to all my thoughts around celebrating Ila's birthday.
So, Ila's birthday. Wow. She is now a one year old. It is hard to believe it has been a year - it has felt both longer and shorter than that. I guess mostly longer probably because I was actually awake for more of the last year than prior years. So it was actually longer. I found, though, that I've had a much stronger connection to the present moment this last year. It is nice to be reminded to stay in the present and focus on what is happening with Ila right in front of me...even if some of the time is exhausting and difficult! Most of the time I just marvel at how curious, adorable, and fascinating she is. These are the moments that time seems to go very quickly.Lately, she is babbling constantly, including this morning at 4:30 AM. She's still not talking, but she is intent on communication. She uses her signs (check out "more" in the video below!), sometimes a little wildly, and clearly wants to be understood. Oh, and she does moo like a cow when she sees a pictures of them. She mimics sounds, gestures, faces. And clearly understands a great deal of what we say to her. I can't wait for her to use actual words...it will be so wild. It's hard to imagine what her first real word will actually be. Cat? No? Cow? Maybe even mama?
Now that she is getting to be a real, live kid, I was perusing the "discipline" section of some of our parenting books. One comment struck me about modeling behavior for your child. This is obvious and not anything new for me, but I realized that the strongest way I communicate my expectations for Ila is, of course, how I behave. Duh, right? Well, it really struck me at that moment. I started thinking about how...sometimes I'm so impatient or I kind of throw a fit if I'm frustrated. I get fixated on small things. It's hard for me to let them go at times...and I want to blame someone else in my frustration...for whatever is wrong. In Buddhist terms, I'm all about aversion. I don't want to accept that things aren't the way I want them to be - whether that is getting a cold for the seventh time in seven months or finding a wet towel on the bed. Really, I don't even want to accept when I'm deeply irritated. I don't want to just notice the emotion, feel it, give it space without clinging to it, let go of it, without the expectation of feeling immediately better. I like to push it away. Blaming someone else is a great way to do this!
See? I'm all about aversion.
Anyway, it occurred to me that self-discipline is an important place to start when when disciplining anyone else. ("Discipline" sounds so negative to me, yet "self-discipline" sounds so positive. Interesting.) I definitely realized this as a teacher too...but my tendencies toward impatience, aversion, anger...well, they're pretty strong. So, for the last few weeks, I've been thinking about how I really should both accept who I am...and subtly change it. What a tricky balance, no? (This reminds me of yet another fabulous Lydia Davis short story, New Year's Resolution . Very short and hilarious. Read it!)
I guess what I realized is that I'd like to be a very true, conscious version of myself for Ila - and my - sake; that there are ways that I create extra suffering for myself (and those around me, I'm sure)...and that it would be good to work on this since, as a parent and a model for my child, I will have a lot more credibility if I am not simply avoiding difficult emotions, blaming other people, erupting in anger. We'll see how this goes.
Here's to not throwing tantrums, at least!
Friday, May 20, 2011
This Boo is Made for Walking
ILA WALKED! On Her Own.
She actually did it last Saturday, but I sort of cheated. I was kind of spotting her from the back, and then I let go. She walked to the couch. I hollered and cheered. Then, she did it again for Kiyomi...after which she showed no interest in it for a week. Then, today, she did some shuttle runs between Kiyomi and I for the better part of 15 minutes. It was cute. We kept clapping and cheering. She kept going back and forth with a very pleased look on her face. It was cute. I still am not sure when she will really want to walk from one place to another...that is, without a squealing, excited adult at each end to encourage her.
In other news, I'm some kind of immunological cripple. This must be why I've had a cold every month for the last six months. Not constantly sick; just sick, better, sick again, better, over and over. Well, "over and over" for a total of six. That is too many over-and-over's.
I blame breastfeeding.
I love breastfeeding, but still Ila is sapping my life force via my mammary glands. Fortunately, this means that she has only gotten sick a couple times - thanks to my amazing life force. (If I'm not going to benefit from it, I guess I'm happy Ila is.) Unfortunately, Ila got it this time, and she's miserable.
So, it is particularly remarkable she wanted to totter back and forth on her little feet today for so long. While she did do this little bit of exercise, she has mostly wanted to cry and look like a little sad, wilted bean. Poor little babe. So, in the interest of one sick little walker, I am making this brief.
She walked! Woo-hoo!!
She actually did it last Saturday, but I sort of cheated. I was kind of spotting her from the back, and then I let go. She walked to the couch. I hollered and cheered. Then, she did it again for Kiyomi...after which she showed no interest in it for a week. Then, today, she did some shuttle runs between Kiyomi and I for the better part of 15 minutes. It was cute. We kept clapping and cheering. She kept going back and forth with a very pleased look on her face. It was cute. I still am not sure when she will really want to walk from one place to another...that is, without a squealing, excited adult at each end to encourage her.
In other news, I'm some kind of immunological cripple. This must be why I've had a cold every month for the last six months. Not constantly sick; just sick, better, sick again, better, over and over. Well, "over and over" for a total of six. That is too many over-and-over's.
I blame breastfeeding.
I love breastfeeding, but still Ila is sapping my life force via my mammary glands. Fortunately, this means that she has only gotten sick a couple times - thanks to my amazing life force. (If I'm not going to benefit from it, I guess I'm happy Ila is.) Unfortunately, Ila got it this time, and she's miserable.
So, it is particularly remarkable she wanted to totter back and forth on her little feet today for so long. While she did do this little bit of exercise, she has mostly wanted to cry and look like a little sad, wilted bean. Poor little babe. So, in the interest of one sick little walker, I am making this brief.
She walked! Woo-hoo!!
Monday, May 9, 2011
Yes and No
So, yesterday was our first Mother's Day. Ila and I woke up all snuggled together, then she nursed for a while, then snuggled and slept more. It was pretty heavenly. I can't believe she is almost one! I look forward to seeing her as a toddler, a little kid and a big kid, even a teenager, and beyond...but moments like yesterday morning really bring home how sweet it is to have a baby around, with their funny little faces, chubby hands and feet and all the speaking-in-tongues babbling.
It's nice to remember how adorable and fascinating she is right now because we are also having, concurrent with all this cuteness, a horrible time sleeping. Ugh. She has been up for over 3 hours in the middle of the night several times in the last week. At those moments, I look forward to the time that she is sleeping soundly through the night - fine, fast forward five years, I don't care! I don't care if I miss all kinds of amazing things, just give me some solid sleep! Then, she's a cuddly little darling in the morning...and I think, ah well. Who needs sleep?
She is so cute.
Seriously, I walk around all day long saying, "You are SO cute" and feeling it with my whole being, in an acute, almost painful sort of way. I'm worried about the time I have to stop remarking on her adorableness out loud. Something tells me that it is not good for a child to hear this as a constant refrain. This is unfortunate; however, I don't want to be one of those ridiculous parents that are too clingy and affectionate and gushy, whose children shake them off constantly with embarrassment, whose praise means nothing because it not really earned and so often repeated. I'm just going to enjoy this time that I can kiss her on the cheek and tell her she's lovely every five minutes. Hopefully I'll be able to break this habit...
Developmentally this is an exciting time. She's not saying any words, and I have been really looking forward to that...so I've been a bit disappointed. Actually, it's more that I've been wondering what I'm doing wrong - am I not talking to her enough or not in the best, most speech inducing way? And, she wasn't doing any signs - which we've been consistently using with her for months. So, naturally, this reinforced my certainty that she is either a) never going to be able to communicate OR b) crippled by my obvious ineptitude in instructing various forms of speech. Fortunately for all of us, she started signing this last week! Woo-hoo! She started with "all done" and "eat." These were shortly followed by "potty." Mostly, she signs this back at us in response to our signs or questions.
Since she was signing with some reliability, I decided to teach her to sign for "book" because she loves to be read to so much. This sign is easy; you open your two hands like a book. She picked it up right away...and it is the most bizarre of her signs. She's turned it into this exaggerated shrug with some head thrusting, usually accompanied by a bizarre smile/grimace. This is the sign that she does most frequently without any prompting. Actually, it's probably tied with "eat." An eater and a reader. I can live with that. I am curious to see when she starts using "potty" of her own volition. She goes on it when we put her on, but it will be very exciting when she starts actually indicating when she needs to go herself!
Beyond signing, she's making all kinds of little connections. The other day she had a shirt with a sheep on it. When we got to a page in a book we were reading with a sheep, she looked down at her shirt and pointed to the sheep. What was so exciting about this is that I've never mentioned that this creature on her shirt is a sheep. Also, the book we were reading does not mention the sheep by name; it's just one of the little animals cavorting in a barnyard. I thought this was pretty amazing. Upon reflecting on this, I think Kiyomi has called it the animal on her shirt a sheep, but still, I was pretty impressed.
Similarly, she is definitely making the connection between shaking the head meaning "no" and nodding meaning "yes." I didn't even realize I nodded my head much for yes, but I must because the other day when I was saying, "hmm-mm" as a yes, she started nodding. Funny. As far as shaking her head, she's been doing that for a while, but not really as a sign for no. She used to just enjoy shaking her head back and forth; I think because it felt good? But recently she has connected it to the word no, which is not a word she likes to hear, incidentally. When I say it, her face gets all scrunched up and she starts crying. Sometimes really crying, not like just a fake sob or two, like someone kicked her in the shin crying.
For example, the other day, she was standing at my knees while I sat on the couch. We were looking at a book or a toy and she leaned over and started to bite my knee, sort of idly. She's getting some new teeth, so she enjoys chomping down on most everything. I said, "No, Ila, please don't bite my knee." Well, she shook her head, "no," as I said no, then the waterworks started. I didn't even say it in an angry or upset manner, and I was already adding, "You can kiss my knee or pat my knee." (Which, if you really want to bite someone, I'm not sure kissing and patting afford the same pleasure, but I like to give options.) Anyway, she was sad for a moment, but we were still playing so the sadness was forgotten. After a minute or two she leaned over and gave my knee a lick - I think that's her version of a kiss. I said "thank you" and "oh, how nice - you gave mama's knee a kiss" and a few minutes later she did it again.
This whole incident was pretty interesting. It's sort of settling this notion I have that "no" doesn't always work that well. We're not big users of the word "no" - though when she consciously bites or kicks and it hurts, I pretty instinctively say no. The main "no" arena has been around throwing food on the ground. We've been trying to offer the option to put the food on the table or give it to us if she doesn't want it. We've said, "no, Ila don't throw the food on the floor." And that pretty much crushes her little spirit entirely. Then, she just throws food on the ground and shakes her head "no" while doing it. Nice.
Now, I'm not someone who thinks you should never use the word no. Also, I know that tears don't indicate being truly, deeply wounded. But, she has such a visceral reaction to the word no, I've decided that maybe just giving her the better options in whatever situation over and over and reinforcing and recognizing the desired behavior is probably more effective than using such a charged word with much frequency. I know, probably a gajillion developmental psychologists are rolling their eyes at the banality of my realization, but I'm living it, baby. And as my yogi tea recently informed me, "Wisdom becomes knowledge when it is personal experience."
Anyway, all these little gestures seem sort of small when I write them out, but when most of your child's life has been spent as a little grub that can't talk or indicate or express connections in anyway, it's pretty surprising when these sorts of thing start happening. She's growing up into a real, live, actual little person! Pretty remarkable.
It's nice to remember how adorable and fascinating she is right now because we are also having, concurrent with all this cuteness, a horrible time sleeping. Ugh. She has been up for over 3 hours in the middle of the night several times in the last week. At those moments, I look forward to the time that she is sleeping soundly through the night - fine, fast forward five years, I don't care! I don't care if I miss all kinds of amazing things, just give me some solid sleep! Then, she's a cuddly little darling in the morning...and I think, ah well. Who needs sleep?
She is so cute.
Seriously, I walk around all day long saying, "You are SO cute" and feeling it with my whole being, in an acute, almost painful sort of way. I'm worried about the time I have to stop remarking on her adorableness out loud. Something tells me that it is not good for a child to hear this as a constant refrain. This is unfortunate; however, I don't want to be one of those ridiculous parents that are too clingy and affectionate and gushy, whose children shake them off constantly with embarrassment, whose praise means nothing because it not really earned and so often repeated. I'm just going to enjoy this time that I can kiss her on the cheek and tell her she's lovely every five minutes. Hopefully I'll be able to break this habit...
Developmentally this is an exciting time. She's not saying any words, and I have been really looking forward to that...so I've been a bit disappointed. Actually, it's more that I've been wondering what I'm doing wrong - am I not talking to her enough or not in the best, most speech inducing way? And, she wasn't doing any signs - which we've been consistently using with her for months. So, naturally, this reinforced my certainty that she is either a) never going to be able to communicate OR b) crippled by my obvious ineptitude in instructing various forms of speech. Fortunately for all of us, she started signing this last week! Woo-hoo! She started with "all done" and "eat." These were shortly followed by "potty." Mostly, she signs this back at us in response to our signs or questions.
Since she was signing with some reliability, I decided to teach her to sign for "book" because she loves to be read to so much. This sign is easy; you open your two hands like a book. She picked it up right away...and it is the most bizarre of her signs. She's turned it into this exaggerated shrug with some head thrusting, usually accompanied by a bizarre smile/grimace. This is the sign that she does most frequently without any prompting. Actually, it's probably tied with "eat." An eater and a reader. I can live with that. I am curious to see when she starts using "potty" of her own volition. She goes on it when we put her on, but it will be very exciting when she starts actually indicating when she needs to go herself!
Beyond signing, she's making all kinds of little connections. The other day she had a shirt with a sheep on it. When we got to a page in a book we were reading with a sheep, she looked down at her shirt and pointed to the sheep. What was so exciting about this is that I've never mentioned that this creature on her shirt is a sheep. Also, the book we were reading does not mention the sheep by name; it's just one of the little animals cavorting in a barnyard. I thought this was pretty amazing. Upon reflecting on this, I think Kiyomi has called it the animal on her shirt a sheep, but still, I was pretty impressed.
Similarly, she is definitely making the connection between shaking the head meaning "no" and nodding meaning "yes." I didn't even realize I nodded my head much for yes, but I must because the other day when I was saying, "hmm-mm" as a yes, she started nodding. Funny. As far as shaking her head, she's been doing that for a while, but not really as a sign for no. She used to just enjoy shaking her head back and forth; I think because it felt good? But recently she has connected it to the word no, which is not a word she likes to hear, incidentally. When I say it, her face gets all scrunched up and she starts crying. Sometimes really crying, not like just a fake sob or two, like someone kicked her in the shin crying.
For example, the other day, she was standing at my knees while I sat on the couch. We were looking at a book or a toy and she leaned over and started to bite my knee, sort of idly. She's getting some new teeth, so she enjoys chomping down on most everything. I said, "No, Ila, please don't bite my knee." Well, she shook her head, "no," as I said no, then the waterworks started. I didn't even say it in an angry or upset manner, and I was already adding, "You can kiss my knee or pat my knee." (Which, if you really want to bite someone, I'm not sure kissing and patting afford the same pleasure, but I like to give options.) Anyway, she was sad for a moment, but we were still playing so the sadness was forgotten. After a minute or two she leaned over and gave my knee a lick - I think that's her version of a kiss. I said "thank you" and "oh, how nice - you gave mama's knee a kiss" and a few minutes later she did it again.
This whole incident was pretty interesting. It's sort of settling this notion I have that "no" doesn't always work that well. We're not big users of the word "no" - though when she consciously bites or kicks and it hurts, I pretty instinctively say no. The main "no" arena has been around throwing food on the ground. We've been trying to offer the option to put the food on the table or give it to us if she doesn't want it. We've said, "no, Ila don't throw the food on the floor." And that pretty much crushes her little spirit entirely. Then, she just throws food on the ground and shakes her head "no" while doing it. Nice.
Now, I'm not someone who thinks you should never use the word no. Also, I know that tears don't indicate being truly, deeply wounded. But, she has such a visceral reaction to the word no, I've decided that maybe just giving her the better options in whatever situation over and over and reinforcing and recognizing the desired behavior is probably more effective than using such a charged word with much frequency. I know, probably a gajillion developmental psychologists are rolling their eyes at the banality of my realization, but I'm living it, baby. And as my yogi tea recently informed me, "Wisdom becomes knowledge when it is personal experience."
Anyway, all these little gestures seem sort of small when I write them out, but when most of your child's life has been spent as a little grub that can't talk or indicate or express connections in anyway, it's pretty surprising when these sorts of thing start happening. She's growing up into a real, live, actual little person! Pretty remarkable.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Upright
Ila stood on her own! She loves to toddle around clutching tightly to two hands or the furniture - she prefers hands as her exploration is not restricted to furnitured areas. Today, I let go of her hands for a moment - she can lean back on my legs - and she just kept standing there! No swaying, no reaching for anything. Just standing! Then, twice after this, she chose to take her hands off her balancing object - a chair and a table. She had this thrilled, sort of shocked look on her face with just a dash of fear, exciting fear, mind you. Wow! I can sort of glimpse her walking in my imagination. I know she'll walk on a purely theoretical level, but today it seemed like a real possibility! 
What a day! It has been a very sweet day (among other things, Ila took a freakisly long nap). This morning she started rustling around and obviously wanted to nurse at about 6 o'clock. I got us all snuggled up and positioned...and Ila proceeded to latch on and nurse for about 20 seconds, then pulled off and put her pacifier in her mouth for about 5 seconds, then back to the breast for 20 seconds, then back to the pacifier...back and forth for about 10 minutes. She did this all in a closed-eye, semi-conscious daze, like she was getting stoned off all the snuggle-y, sucking action. I, however, was wide awake after 30 rounds of this and decided to plop her pacifier in and pull her up onto my chest. She settled into a light sleep for another half an hour, sprawled across my body. It was so absolutely lovely and blissful that I didn't even mind how much I really wanted to still be sleeping.
Later, after the standing action, I put Ila down for her second nap. Today is my brother's birthday, and I was thinking about him as she fell asleep. I have a lot of guilt about not being a kind big sister when we were growing up. Sometimes I think this has something to do with my parents; sometimes it seems like it's just about me. Specifically, I always wonder how I could have been a better sister - maybe it's something my mother did, or something my father didn't do, or something flawed about me that made me stingy and ungenerous with my brother. But, I am always looking back thinking my sibling behavior was problematic and wondering how it went wrong. I think about this because, if Ila has a sibling, I'd like the two of them to love each other without these feelings of guilt.
Well, it just occurred to me today - after three decades as a sister - that maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. Maybe nobody did anything wrong, maybe I was a pretty normal big sister, but there is something in me that always wants to rake myself over the coals for past behavior and choices. It's such a revolution to think that, in fact, this isn't about who I was as a kid but about who I am today: I am someone who wants to fix things, even long ago things that were (and still are) totally out of my control, someone with a strong tendency to be a bit too critical of myself. Also, a bit of a rigid perfectionist. Now, instead of thinking about ways I can make Ila a perfect older sibling (it has now become clear that was what I was doing), I will focus on trying to help her be kind to herself. Maybe then she will be okay with who she is, what she needs, and we may just foster a love of her own little self that can overflow into kindness and compassion for any other little beings she shares a home with. There's a thought.
What a day! It has been a very sweet day (among other things, Ila took a freakisly long nap). This morning she started rustling around and obviously wanted to nurse at about 6 o'clock. I got us all snuggled up and positioned...and Ila proceeded to latch on and nurse for about 20 seconds, then pulled off and put her pacifier in her mouth for about 5 seconds, then back to the breast for 20 seconds, then back to the pacifier...back and forth for about 10 minutes. She did this all in a closed-eye, semi-conscious daze, like she was getting stoned off all the snuggle-y, sucking action. I, however, was wide awake after 30 rounds of this and decided to plop her pacifier in and pull her up onto my chest. She settled into a light sleep for another half an hour, sprawled across my body. It was so absolutely lovely and blissful that I didn't even mind how much I really wanted to still be sleeping.
Later, after the standing action, I put Ila down for her second nap. Today is my brother's birthday, and I was thinking about him as she fell asleep. I have a lot of guilt about not being a kind big sister when we were growing up. Sometimes I think this has something to do with my parents; sometimes it seems like it's just about me. Specifically, I always wonder how I could have been a better sister - maybe it's something my mother did, or something my father didn't do, or something flawed about me that made me stingy and ungenerous with my brother. But, I am always looking back thinking my sibling behavior was problematic and wondering how it went wrong. I think about this because, if Ila has a sibling, I'd like the two of them to love each other without these feelings of guilt.
Well, it just occurred to me today - after three decades as a sister - that maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. Maybe nobody did anything wrong, maybe I was a pretty normal big sister, but there is something in me that always wants to rake myself over the coals for past behavior and choices. It's such a revolution to think that, in fact, this isn't about who I was as a kid but about who I am today: I am someone who wants to fix things, even long ago things that were (and still are) totally out of my control, someone with a strong tendency to be a bit too critical of myself. Also, a bit of a rigid perfectionist. Now, instead of thinking about ways I can make Ila a perfect older sibling (it has now become clear that was what I was doing), I will focus on trying to help her be kind to herself. Maybe then she will be okay with who she is, what she needs, and we may just foster a love of her own little self that can overflow into kindness and compassion for any other little beings she shares a home with. There's a thought.
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