Citizen Baby

We've been living in the new house for just over three weeks now, and although we are having some trouble settling in, thanks mostly to our decision to delead the place, we are happy we bought this house. I think we'll finally start to love the house in about another month or so, once all of the contractors have left and we've returned from the vacation being forced upon us and I'm not mopping the floors every other day (and yes, I know I am neurotic since the lead dust tests all came back negative, so I'm really just mopping up nonexistent lead dust. But, man! our floors are CLEAN these days!). I look forward to that.

But we think we made the right choice in finally deciding to buy in Boston. Our mortgage is actually less than we were paying for rent at the beach house we lived in for the past 8 months, and way less than what we were paying for our place in Boston before that. And there are the tax incentives, which will only pull me even further away from my early-20-something desire of never having to use any form other than the 1040EZ, but hey, I've been a long way from that dream for some time now. And we actually OWN this place, which means we can do whatever we want to it. Although that freedom of ownership is a double edged sword, as we are also responsible for fixing EVERYTHING ourselves (or at least hiring people to fix it for us). And this IS an old house, so there is plenty that needs fixing. But it's the oldness of the house that provides it with the character we like so much.

And did I mention it's a SINGLE FAMILY HOME? That means we aren't sharing walls with a 22 year old who doesn't give a second thought to cranking up the volume of his home theater system at 3 a.m. And it means we can listen to our OWN stuff as loud as we want, and I don't have to freak out about Ezra disturbing the neighbors with his loud, stuttering toddler gait. Or his occasional tantrums. Not only that, but it's a single family house right in the city! Only one block away from the T! Once again, most of the things we need are within walking distance, or at least a short T ride. But despite it's proximity to all the action, our house is located on a quiet, dead-end side street. It's the situation I'd never allowed myself to hope for because I did not think it existed in our price range.

And despite our minor irritations with the house, all is made up for by the fact the we LOVE our neighborhood. We have met so many very cool, interesting people (lots of them parents) in the short time we've been here. People who have chosen to live their lives slightly (or extremely) more alternatively, or creatively, or selflessly. I thrive on being surrounded by these kinds of people, it makes ME feel more alternative/creative/selfless. I feel more alive and interested in the world around me, and feel a need to do something to contribute. Living here, I am reminded of the year I lived in NY, when I somehow managed to surround myself by people living life in this way, and I felt full of vitality and inspiration. It's a deliciously addictive way to feel.

And in this neighborhood, on every block there is an agency that does something that attempts to make this world better. On the corner of our street is the Somali Development Center. A little further up the street is the Haymarket People's Fund. It goes on and on. And the people of this neighborhood are devoted to making it a better place to live, by keeping out national chain stores and restaurants, coming to plant a tree or a vegetable garden in your yard, having art classes for children and adults, providing clean and safe playgrounds for kids, having a very active neighborhood council, and holding planning meetings to figure out how to improve the neighborhood without gentrification that prices people out.

There are some tough areas in this neighborhood, and it takes dedication to work on improving them. Several months ago I promised myself I would get involved in some kind of community building, because I want to do everything I can to make sure Ezra grows up in a strong community that not only provides him with fun and safe things to do, but also provides all the neighborhood's kids with opportunities to improve their lives and add some beauty to their childhoods. Living here it is impossible to ignore that promise I made. And that's a good thing.

So yeah, we did good buying this house in this neighborhood.

Last Sunday, the New York Times Magazine had a six page spread of photos taken by the photographer Paul Fusco on June 8, 1968, from the funeral train that was carrying Robert F. Kennedy's body from New York to Washington. The photos are hauntingly beautiful and full of emotion that left me with tears in my eyes. James Danziger, owner of the gallery Danziger Projects where the entire collection of photos will be on display briefly this month, writes in his blog:

The photographer Paul Fusco had been assigned the story by LOOK Magazine and on what turned out to be an unusually hot Saturday, close to a million people – black and white, rich and poor, young and old, singly and in groups - spontaneously came out to pay their respects to the man who had inspired so many Americans.

The blurriness of many of the photos makes them feel dream-like and fleeting, underscoring the poignancy of that moment in history when all of the hope and promise for a better future RFK brought to the American people was dissolved in a single moment of violence.

You can see some of them for yourself online by clicking here.

Existential Dread

This documentary about Philip Glass actually looks really good and like it might even be fun. The only problem is that I have a terrible time staying awake while listening to Glass' music. I've attended three of his performances and have fallen asleep during all three. I have never fallen asleep during any other live performance I was attending. It's got to be the repetitiveness of his music. So maybe I'll just have to wait for it to come out on DVD and then just block off several nights so I can get through the whole movie.

John and I got married with the intention of not having any children, but agreeing to revisit the issue after five years. Just before we hit the half-decade marker, we revisited it one evening when I came home and asked him, "What do you think about having a baby?" Turns out he'd been giving it some thought even longer than I had.

So we did. But sometimes I allow my imagination to follow along the path not taken -- the one where we stuck to our guns and remained childless. I imagine our life would be very much the same as it was before we had a baby. Lots of disposable income from both of us working full time. Martinis over long, late-afternoon Saturday lunches. Weekends filled with nothing but a stack of DVDs, the NY Times, and lots of take out. Late nights out followed by late mornings sleeping in. Frequent weekend trips to wherever we could get a cheap fare.

In short, we would be incredibly happy and satisfied with our life together. We would feel no regrets and our life would be wonderful.

But I wouldn't know. I wouldn't know what it is like to love someone as intensely as I love Ezra. Because, even though everyone told me about the amazing love a parent feels for their child, I never believed a child would be anything other than a burden to me. And I never imagined I would love this little person with such an overwhelming, all encompassing power that sometimes I think I am going to splinter into a million little pieces from the sheer force of that intensity inside of me.

So maybe there are days when I walk around not realizing I have a mix of chewed up graham cracker and saliva dried on the shoulder of my shirt. And we have to be more careful about how we spend money. And I will probably not get to sleep later than 7 a.m. for at least 11 more years. And yes, a lot of the time he is something of a burden. But I am so so so glad we changed our minds because Ezra is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and to me and John. He is a projection of our love, tangible evidence of something pure and beautiful. And he is just amazing.

There is nothing I can write that is not a cliche, and nothing I write would convince the 28 year old me that reproducing would be this rewarding or that it would actually be galvanizing. But it is all of that and so much more.

From what I can tell so far, there are a few good things about owning a house.

1. It is a good investment. We can't deny that any longer -- we ran the numbers and considering our mortgage payment will likely be the same or less than what we pay for rent, plus we'll get the tax credit, it's the best thing to do, even if the value of the house stagnates (which is unlikely over 5 or more years). Even with ALL the money we'll have to pay for upkeep and repairs. We'll still come out WAY ahead. Drats!

2. We can do whatever we want. We can add a half bath, paint the living room black, tear down walls, whatever. (Of course, we have to PAY for everything...)

3. We won't have to lie to anyone about how many cats we have.

But the rest of it? It sucks.

I keep asking myself if we are really ready for this, especially owning an older house. After our inspection on Tuesday, I was looking over the report, and I can say with certainty that there is no way I would ever know 3/4 of those things would actually be problems! There is some pooling of water near the basement window when it rains. Assuming I even noticed something like that I would just assume it would drain eventually. But apparently it can cause the whole house to fall down, or something like that. Who knew?? I sure as hell didn't!

But I guess we'll learn. Or else our house will fall down.

Regardless, it looks like we are moving forward. There were a few somewhat big surprises that came up during the inspection, while things we thought would be problems, like the roof, aren't. At least not yet. So our realtor (who I think is just fabulous because she does SO MUCH WORK and never appears to ever ever sleep judging from the emails I get from her at midnight, then at 6 a.m.) is negotiating with the seller over these things. We're pretty sure the seller won't want to make the repairs, so we're angling for a price reduction or a rebate at closing. If all goes well, we'll hand over a huge check next Thursday (our down payment), then we'll go around begging for a huge amount of money. It just keeps getting better and better!

So most of the time I'm freaked out. I find myself laying awake at night worrying about a billion house-buying related things. But I can not deny my underlying feeling of excitement. Even though there was that terrifying article in the Boston Globe about how people who make $300,000 and have excellent credit can't get mortgages, I feel like this could really happen. And that makes me happy. Because despite the headache that comes with owning an old house, the three things I listed at the beginning of this post really do overshadow all of that. At least that's how I feel right now. Check back with me in a year!

If

We put an offer in on a house last night. Last night I did not sleep very well. Numbers swam around in my head as I tried to figure out from which accounts to pull together our down payment, how much more we should offer if they don't accept this offer, how much faster we would build up equity if we did a 15 year instead of a 30 year, how I'm now going to pay for my LASIK surgery...

But in between those ugly financial thoughts I also allowed some other, more pleasant, considerations. Like where we would put all of our book shelves, what color we would paint the living room, the dining room, the bedrooms, and which room would be Ezra's playroom. And images of Ezra running up the street to the totally awesome playground or learning to ride his bike on the dead-end street punctuated those thoughts.

So IF our offer is accepted, and IF we actually manage to pull together the financing, and IF the crazy old lady who is selling the house (who did not LIKE our bank so wanted us to get another pre-approval from a different bank at 10:00 at night) doesn't pull any surprises at the closing, well, maybe those nice thoughts will come to fruition. If if if if if.

I'm SO so so excited and SO SO SO terrified and I think my head is just going to explode from all of it!

Hmmm... an ode to my mom?

My mom told me recently that some of the things I've posted about my attempts to be more environmentally conscious on our "family" blog have really made her think and act differently. I don't think anything (other than Ezra) has made me feel so good recently. If I can make my MOM think differently, I must be doing something right! Of course she still lives in a neighborhood that requires the FIRST floor of any home being built to be AT LEAST 2800 square feet. Um, can you say McMansion? Does one couple really need four bedrooms, a "media" room, a "billiards" room, and a study, in addition to all of the regular rooms that come with a typical large house ? But she did choose to buy a regular (luxury) sedan rather than the SUV she really wanted, and she gives me a lot  of the credit for making that choice.

I've actually really come to have a lot of respect for my mom over the last few years. She went from a 17 year old mother who had never left her small upstate NY town, who, when moving to Houston thought for certain life in the big city meant I would be kidnapped, she would be raped, and we would be mugged on a daily basis (except we were moving to the big ol' scary suburbs!) to a woman who has worked her way up to an impressive position in a huge Fortune 100 corporation that requires her to travel all over the world. Whereas she used to think shrimp was a disgusting thing to eat, she has now feasted upon many unusual foods considered delicacies in several Asian countries. And over time I've witnessed her perspective of the world shift from one that was very narrow to one that recognizes and understands that there is a wide variety of "normal" in this world, and that people who do not live the way she does are not always wrong or bad or frightening.

I also love love love the grandmother she is to Ezra. She is amazing with him. She approaches him gently and allows him to warm up to her. She plays with him with the understanding that he is a one year old toddler, not a monkey meant to be trained and used for our amusement. She is fun and enthusiastic with him, and he really responds to her. I love seeing them together and wish they could hang out more often.

It's amazing to me that I feel inspired to write something this glowing about my mother. My childhood, teenage and young adult diaries are filled with page after page of vitriol directed toward her. We so truly did not get along. I never felt like I ever did anything to please or impress her. But I think she finally accepts that I want different things out of life than she does, that I have different ambitions and different ways of doing things. And I think she might even respect that. And maybe I finally respect those things about her.

"And I get to hug him when I do it...

[When I originally published this post over at our family blog, this vintage Sesame Street video about breastfeeding was actually available. Too bad for copyrights, eh? But the title of the post comes from the video.]

I'd always planned to nurse Ezra until he was a year old. The AAP recommends exclusive breastfeeding for the first six months and "support for breastfeeding for the first year and beyond as long as mutually desired by mother and child." While I know nursing doesn't work out for all moms and babes or some moms prefer not to nurse, I found for us the reasons supporting breastfeeding to be numerous and compelling. Not to mention The Physicist and I are far too lazy to get up to mix formula in the middle of the night, or to wash all those bottles all the time!

It ended up taking much effort and perseverance for us to get our nursing relationship off the ground, but it has been one of the most worthwhile things I've ever done and the bond Ezra and I have established is simply beyond words. And once we got through that first very difficult month, nursing is an almost effortless practice.

But I always figured I'd start weaning shortly after a year and be completely finished by 15 months. However, as that 12 month marker grows ever closer, the more reluctant I am to start weaning. And the more I read about the benefits of toddler nursing, the more I want to continue. Dealing with fewer colds and other illnesses is only the tip of the iceberg. Nothing else can soothe him the way nursing does when he is upset, calm him when he's angry, comfort him when he's scared, or ease his pain when he is hurting. And I absolutely love our nursing relationship.

So as long as Ezra also continues to enjoy nursing, we will most likely keep it up at least through his second year. The Physicist is a little apprehensive about this decision, as he pictures me nursing Ezra during recess in first grade or before sending him out the door for his first day of high school. He has even threatened to steal off with Ezra to an undisclosed location on his second birthday and not return with him until he is forcibly weaned. While I don't expect to still be nursing when Ezra starts pre-school, I think these kinds of fears are common.

But the fact is, in the coming months solid foods will become more a part of Ezra's diet, and as he becomes a more proficient eater he will need to rely on breast milk less and less for complete nutrition. Eventually, nursing would be a once a day thing, or even once every other day. Perhaps he would only nurse when he was feeling upset in some way. If I go back to work before he starts school, it seems like nursing for a bit at night would be a very nice way to re-connect after being apart all day. And eventually he will decide he doesn't need it anymore, or I will decide it isn't working out for me anymore, and we will stop then. He isn't going to be some kind of weird freak because he nurses until he is 2 or so!

So I thought I would share some breastfeeding links, some related to toddler nursing, some not...

• The benefits of extended breastfeeding
• Is nursing toddlers the "new black?"
• A snarky photo montage toward criticism of public breastfeeding -- you might find this offensive if you find the covers of magazines in the grocery store offensive...
• World Health Organization's breastfeeding info -- they recommend breastfeeding until at least age two.
• Breastfeeding can boost your sex life!!

Ah, the abandoned blog. How many of them are there littering up the internets?

Well, instead of letting Citizen Baby become a statistic, I've decided to keep the dream alive. For the past several months I've been focusing on the little, private blog we keep for our distant families and friends, but there are some topics I'd like to write about that I don't necessarily want them to read. And that is precisely why The Physicist and I created Citizen Baby in the first place.

But while I'm working on some of these unmentionable posts, I'm going to steal some of the "greatest hits" from our other blog. Just to get me back in the rhythm of blogging at Citizen Baby.

Another indication things have changed

Just as we try to support local farms by purchasing produce from farmers' markets or from the "locally grown" bin at Whole Foods, The Physicist and I like to try to support local artists whenever possible.  That used to mean buying paintings or photographs that made us feel like we'd been punched in the gut.  Pieces of art that, even after a few days, we just couldn't get out of our heads or souls.  When spending as much money as some pieces cost, it's important that we will enjoy looking at them for years to come.  Even after discovering a new painting by our current favorite artist that haunted us for a week after seeing it, we still hemmed and hawed, and felt squeamish as we contacted the gallery to make the purchase.  But then we brought it home, hung it, and haven't looked back.  In fact, we've only looked forward to our next purchase of one of her paintings. 

So today we decided to head over to the Beacon Hill Art Walk.  There was some nice pottery, but most of the paintings were just bad.  Baby E was getting a little fussy in the Bjorn, so I was about to insist we turn back when we came across a booth with simple, very cute line drawings of little creatures and city scapes and funny people with carrots for noses.  We immediately bought two of the prints -- a monkey playing guitar and a frog wearing suspenders.  They will look great in Baby E's room, along with the wonderful painting given to him by the woman who used to clean our apartment. 

So, just like everything else, our art acquisitions have become very Baby E-focused these days.