Stuck Saturday, Nov 7 2009 

Imagination does not breed insanity. Exactly what does breed insanity is reason. Poets do not go mad; but chess players do. Mathematicians go mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom. … The general fact is simple. Poetry is sane because it floats easily in an infinite sea; reason seeks to cross the infinite sea, and so make it finite. The result is mental exhaustion, like the physical exhaustion of Mr. Holbein. To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything a strain. The poet only desires exaltation and expansion, a world to stretch himself in. The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits.

-G.K.Chesterton, Orthodoxy

I actually have things to write, many of them, some of an urgent and distressing nature. But I can’t at the moment, as my head is busy splitting.


I knew that it would come back to bite me… Monday, Mar 23 2009 

So I’m halfway through a treatise on how I don’t find motherhood very hard and, even though I wasn’t being smug, it came back to bite me on the butt anyway. Last week was just impossible.

I have a baby that insists on crawling all over me whenever I’m within reach. If he can’t reach me (for instance, when I’m in a chair, he pulls himself up as close as he can get and hollers. And when I pick him up, he immediately goes for my Touch, keyboard, mouse, pen, knitting needles… essentially anything I’m trying to work with.

I got a few things done on my days off, but not a lot. Then the weekend and misery in the incarnation of the coronavirus struck. I was sick for my sister’s entire spring break visit, and didn’t get to spend any real time with her. Fortunately she was happy to play with the baby, allowing me to be miserable all by my lonesome.

So yeah, last week was a buster of a week, with a lot of stuff I wanted to do that didn’t get done, and a lot of sickness and grumpiness and crankiness.

And, looking back, what I regret the most was not my failure to clean the bathroom or get the laundry done, but that I spent so much time working on a silly new blog re-theme and banner, and didn’t snuggle my baby at every opportunity that presented itself.


Quality Versus Cost Monday, Jan 19 2009 

My dad and I keep having the same circular conversation, and it starts out something like this:

Dad:  ”I’ll tell you what, you would be stupid to buy an Apple laptop these days.  You can a laptop just as nice as a MacBook, with better graphics, for less than a Macbook.”

Me:  ”But I don’t want to use Windows or Linux.”

Dad:  ”I know, but the graphics in these laptops are just so much better and for less.”

Me:  ”I’d rather buy the laptop that has a lower chance of being borked in 18 months.”  (My Fujitsu Lifebook only lasted 20, which, given what I paid for it, was a crime.)

Dad:  ”Well, this Vaio is four years old now and it’s still running.  You just can’t play games on these new MacBooks, the graphics aren’t there.”

Dad and Me together, one at the other:  ”Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Conversation ends.

We have this conversation at least once a month, and it always bugs me because he’s irrevocably correct, there are new OEM laptops that are just as specced as a MacBook (or better specced) for cheaper… but I look at them and still prefer the MacBook. 

It’s not that either of us are wrong.  Dad and I are just coming at the problem from different perspectives.   (more…)

Autodidacticism Tuesday, Jan 13 2009 

The last listed, but most interesting (at least to me, also the most likely to be kept) resolution in my list was to learn something new.  Not because of some exterior stimulus or need, just because.  Just because I can.

Autodidacticism is self-education, self-directed learning.  My dad does this all the time.  Heck, I do it a lot myself, learn something just because I want to know it.  Last year I picked up needles and taught myself to knit, and now I’m a knitting fiend.  I’m always learning new recipes, new lab techniques, new embroidery stitches.  But these are all things that come easily to me.  The difference this year is that I’m determined to learn something that truly challenges me, something I really have to work for, something that I will probably only dint even if I work consistently at learning it the whole year.  Something hard.

(And preferably something inexpensive.  Knitting and woodworking and cooking and all that are loads of fun, but in addition to finding them relatively easy, they also require working capital, and we’re trying to save money.)

If I look at the things that I do, and do well, there is a theme to them.  They are all tactile things, things I do with my hands.  I’m good with my hands.  So something new should exercise my brain.  I’ve narrowed it down learning a new language, either Spanish, or Cocoa.

Yes, I am aware that one’s a programming language, and one’s a ‘real’ language.  But I hate learning languages, any language.  I’m bad at it.  Stupendously bad at it.  I haul out that ‘one language, badly’ joke all the time.  So either should be perfect.

I’m leaning towards Cocoa, but I’ll probably try to learn both.  Does this seem excessive, nay, unrealistic to anyone else?  It does to me.

The problem with learning Spanish is that I feel a responsibility to learn Spanish.  My husband’s paternal grandparents live in Mexico (with brief sojourns into the US for their pension checks *sigh*) and speak essentially no English.  The rest of that side of the family can speak English… but won’t unless absolutely necessary.  And whatever the relationship between The Husband and his relatives, whatever my relationship with them, I feel like I have a responsibility to give my son the ability to make his own relationship with them.  So he needs to learn Spanish.  Which means I need to learn Spanish.  (Obviously The Husband already speaks the language).  But GeekBaby is lucky to have the opportunity to know so many of his great grandparents.

But this feeling of responsibility takes away the fun in learning a language just because I want to learn it.  So I’ll try to learn both this year, one for fun and one for duty.

“I’ve nursed everywhere, man…” Wednesday, Oct 15 2008 

I have nursed everywhere.  I’ve nursed in restaurants, stores, churches, even standing in line to renew my driver’s license at the DPS office.  (I’m certainly not dumb enough to get out of line every time my little one wanted to eat, or I’d still be there!  It did take a certain amount of juggling to achieve, but we managed.  Hmm, this sounds like a new sport, extreme nursing.)

Anyway.  Ever since I could navigate the stairs down from my apartment, I’ve nursed whenever and wherever GeekBaby required.  I figured the only way to learn to nurse discreetly was to get out there and accidentally flash someone practice.  And I learned a lot with this approach, although it’s worth noting it only worked because he was such a good nurser in the first place.

I learned that this particular baby would not eat with a blanket over his head, even at a week old.  Forget teaching them to nurse under a blanket when they’re tiny so they’ll accept it when they’re older, he would not tolerate it, period.

I learned that my favorite nursing shirts were these elbow sleeved v-necks from Old Navy. I could adjust things through the collar, then pull the shirt up to nurse without feeling really exposed.  The style was flattering for me, they were lightweight enough for summer, and they were cheap enough to just buy one for each day of the week.

I just find as quiet and comfortable place as I can and feed the baby.  If I’m in a group, I may ask if it’s alright if I nurse –  not because I feel I need permission, but because it’s polite to give people a little warning.  If anyone actually said “No”, they might very well get a “tough nuggets” response and I’d nurse anyway.  The Husband’s department head actually went off on a rant once when I asked this.  She ‘can’t believe women still feel like they need to ask this’.  But I don’t feel I need to, I just feel it’s courteous.

But in all my experiences, I’ve never felt ashamed about breastfeeding in public.  And I’ve never felt like anyone else was attempting to shame me for it either.  Until last Saturday.

We took GeekBaby to the valley to meet his great grandma, and I spent Saturday out shopping with La Suegra.  We were in HEB when he decided he had to eat, and he had to eat now, Or Else.  And I couldn’t go out to the car because she was almost done with the shopping but didn’t know where I parked.  So I went up to the front of the store to find a place to sit and nurse while I kept an eye out for my mother in law.

Well, there was no place to sit, so I found an out of the way place where I could keep an eye out for her, and started nursing my now loudly protesting baby.  And I hadn’t been nursing him 30 seconds when an employee approached me and asked if I wanted a room in which to sit down.

I thanked her, but said I was waiting for my mother in law and needed to stay where she could find me.

And the response I got was “well, it’s just you’re… a little exposed.  We’ve received a complaint.”

I came out of that confrontation unsettled.  We stayed where we were, GeekBaby ate and burped, my mother in law arrived, checked out, and we left.  I told my  mother in law about it, she laughed a little uncomfortably and said that people down there just weren’t used to it, so don’t worry about it.

The danger was never that I could be bullied, but that I would lose my temper, that I would be rude and combative.  I kept my composure and my temper, and I’m proud of that.  But I still feel unsettled.  And more than a little angry.

Exposed?  I’m exposed?!  All you can see is half of my tummy, slightly flabby and stretch marked, certainly, but hardly the worst physique to be exposed by women’s fashion!  Crop tops, hot pants, mini skirts, thongs showing above the waistband of jeans, and I’m exposed?  My boobs at least are doing something useful!

Really, expressions of contempt fail me here.  

I still don’t feel ashamed, precisely, of nursing in public.  But I do feel defensive.  And I don’t like feeling that, but I don’t know how to get rid of it either… so I’m unsettled.

[Edit]  While unsettling and annoying, I don’t believe this resulted from any sort of corporate anti-breastfeeding attitude for a minute.  I’ve nursed many times in other HEBs without incident.  This was a cultural incident – the Rio Grande valley is an area of the US with both a low rate of breastfeeding and weird social mores – I probably would have been approached in a similar manner no matter what store I was in.

I forgot about the cultural difference, and frankly I think it’s stupid and it doesn’t mean much to me.  I’d rather get the stinkeye for nursing rather than for having a screaming infant.  I was firm, I told the lady that it was too bad she’d gotten a complaint, but Texas state law protected me.  She was very uncomfortable with the situation, poor thing.  Getting bitchy wouldn’t have helped the situation at all, and over time, my unease was been soothed by knowing I didn’t.

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