Scrambled Brains

I am becoming addicted to the list post. At least I can admit that I have a problem?

  • I brooded and worried and pumped 18 oz of breastmilk for my two hours away, and Joey apparently slept through my absence. Okay. I thought about him and the Mister a lot, but sat in Starbucks and worked and had a nice time. Maybe I’ll do this again some time.
  • My parents are visiting this weekend, and I’m looking forward to seeing them. It’s the worst time of year to visit Stumptown, but I know that they’re coming for Joey, not for the scenery.
  • This is a bit random, but back in October, my sister Kate and her husband gave me a couple of nursing tops for my birthday (at my request)—and my mother tried to talk them out of it, saying that she had never gotten any use out of nursing tops. Well, I’m wearing nothing but, unless the laundry situation gets desperate; I’ve got to pick up a couple more! I know that my mother and I are built differently, but it must be more than that.
  • Mr. Book and I both have photo keychains of Cricket from his first day; for Christmas, I got him one of Joey. I had expected that he’d use both of them, but instead he has replaced the old one. It’s not that I don’t understand—every time he caught a glimpse of Cricket, he felt sad—but it bothers me a little bit. I don’t know. We react to these things very differently. I’ve always liked seeing pictures, and Mr. Book has always felt more conflicted about it.
  • I did ask Ruth about possibly giving a clothing-type gift to Cricket, and she said that they have no problem with it, adding that they aren’t worried because (among other reasons) they don’t think I would be trying to mother him with a gift of clothing. But I kind of would be—it is a motherly impulse that leads me to want to give shoes (or any clothes), and I don’t want to be inappropriate or underhanded, so now I am re-brooding about the whole thing. She mentioned that he needs shirts. . . .
  • I think Joey is turning blond, and I am not the only one.
  • Can anyone recommend a company or website that makes nice nursing dresses? I’m supposed to be in a wedding over the summer and have no idea what to do. I’m supposed to wear red.
  • I don’t know how she feels about being linked, so I won’t, but there’s another adoption poster who only very recently placed her son for adoption—I think we keep triggering each other. In her most recent post, she wonders about how to ask for time alone with him, and it’s only reading that and thinking about it that led to me realizing that I have never been alone with Cricket—really, not even for a minute. Mr. Book was alone in a room with him for nearly an hour once, while the rest of us were in another room of the apartment, and I know that he treasures that time. But I haven’t had that, unless you count time during the pregnancy, which I absolutely don’t. I managed to get myself pretty upset about that last night.
  • We have a visit tentatively scheduled for January 15, and Mr. Book has sensibly suggested that we set some ground rules between us to prevent me from freaking out. Okay, he didn’t say that last part, but let’s be honest—that would be the primary benefit of a game plan. Do they hold the baby? How does that happen? What are we not okay with? What is our signal for “Susie is totally losing it”? What do we do if I have to use it? Perhaps most importantly, what kind of soup should I make? (My best soup is a tomato soup, but [1] tomato is an unglamorous and homely soup and [2] my tomato soup is rather sour and not at all ketchupy—not what people expect.)