On Notice

When my grandson gets fussy, we've learned to head for The Ball and The Christmas Tree.  (The Ball being a large exercise ball my daughter in law purchased to use during labor. The Christmas tree being - well, a seven foot Christmas tree with small multicolored lights.) Connor likes whoever is holding him to perch on the ball and bounce gently up and down while he gazes with rapt fascination at the tree lights. He can spend a good 30 minutes in this activity - an eternity in newborn minutes - perhaps longer if you sing a few songs while you bounce. Here's what I've noticed about babies, other than the fact that they wrap you around their tiny fingers in no time at all.

They really notice things.

Not just tree lights, but shadows on the wall, and ticking clocks, and whirling ceiling fans.

And faces. They especially notice faces.

I've read that newborns can only see up close - 8 to 12 inches in front of them. When Connor's eyes latch on to something of interest within this range, his entire body becomes still as if he's holding his breath. Nothing can redirect his attention. You can almost see the wheels of thought spinning in his brain - what is that? why is it there? what will it do next?

Of course, he has no name or understanding of the things he sees. But they fascinate him all the same, and stimulate his mind to work in a thousand new directions while he tries to figure it out.

I don't know about you, but I haven't noticed things in that way for eons. My eyes flit constantly from one object to the next, quickly scanning the horizon to see what's coming my way. I wonder how my life, my writing, my music might be different if I were able to stop, be still, and really notice the things in the world around me, even if I don't quite understand what they're all about. If I were to stop looking so far in front of me and take some time to focus on what's up close.

In this first week of the Advent season, we're advised to begin our Watch for the Messiah's coming. I think I'll also be on the lookout for fascinating things right in front of my eyes, things that invite me to stop, be still, and really notice them.

How about you? What are the things you take time to stop, be still, and really notice?

White Friday

You won't be surprised to learn that shopping is NOT on my agenda today. With each passing year, I am less enthused about the material aspect of the holidays. At age 55, I have all the stuff I want, and if there is stuff that I truly need, I get it for myself when finances allow.

I'm calling today White Friday, because I won't be adding any black ink to merchants bottom line. Instead I'll be helping put the finishing touches on the Christmas tree decorations (Connor loves looking at the multi-colored lights), taking our official Christmas card portrait, going for a walk to the park down the street, and tending baby as needed.

In a short while we'll be driving my husband to the airport as he wends his way home to Detroit (boo-hoo). We'll all miss him. He's developed a rapport with Connor that we count on as the last resort (besides nursing of course) when the Babe gets cranky. Yesterday morning, Connor listened with rapt attention to his grandfather's long discourse on subjects ranging from backyard swings to the nature of gravity to the proper way to manage people when supervising a project.

Those are the special moments that put the black ink in my profit and loss statement.

So how are you spending your post-Thanksgiving Friday? Are you in the "white"?

A Kardashian of Another Color

On the Grand Finale of Dancing With the Stars, 24-year old Rob Kardashian finds himself a surprising but real contender for the coveted mirror ball trophy. Just a few weeks ago, I was bemoaning his sister Kim's recent behavior, but this member of the Kardashian family is definitely a horse of a different color. Rob started out as a somewhat reluctant competitor on this glittery ballroom dance competition. He said his mother "made him" do the show in hopes it would boost his confidence level. He was oddly shy and self conscious, and referred to himself as being "fat." His dancing was competent, but lacked personality.  He readily admitted he was "not a performer," and found the whole dance experience very challenging.

But throughout the competition, he has really shown his mettle. He never complained about the work required, and always affably did whatever his partner demanded. He  never copped an attitude with the judges critical comments. He was gracious in accepting praise, and unpretentious with audience acclaim.

About four weeks ago his work ethic started paying off and he broke out of his shell, looking relaxed and even excited on the floor. He began taking the lead in his dances, exuding a manly presence that was not in evidence before.  As the other competitors fell by the wayside, his scores steadily rose and he landed himself in the finale, one of the top three couples left in the competition.

Last night in the final performances he scored his first perfect score, rising to the top of the pack. Like a dark horse, he has pulled away from the leaders at just the right moment, and could very well cross the finish line first when the champion is crowned later this evening.

I've enjoyed watching this young man come into his own on this show, and have to give his mother a little credit for once. In "making" him enter this competition perhaps she realized that he needed an area where he could shine on his own, away from the spectacle his sisters routinely make of their lives. He has pulled to the head of the pack not only on the dance floor, but within his own family too, as a positive example of determination and discipline.

Whatever happens on the show, I think the old Armenian ladies would be very proud of young Rob.

I know I am.

He's one cool Kardashian.

Variable Winds

Michigander's joke about the weather in our fair state. "If you don't like it," we say, "just wait a minute and it will change." But I think Dallas takes the real prize for changeable weather. In the seven days we've been here, the temperatures have swung like a pendulum between 80 and 50 - sometimes on the same day.

Weather is the really the least of anyone's concern right now. With a new baby in the house, life revolves around a tight little circle of feeding, sleeping, diaper changing, rocking. From the mother's perspective, I've heard it referred to as being in a "hazy, milky coma."

In the past couple of days, we've all been congratulating ourselves on keeping things on an even keel. The baby has been calm, we've all had our share of quality time, Mom has gotten a bit of much-needed rest. We even had a meal together last night.

But this morning two blurry eyed parents appeared, saying the Babe hadn't slept all night. It's Monday, and Dad has a phone meeting this morning, so he's trying to get himself awake and alert.

Life with a baby is as changeable as the weather, even the weather in Dallas.

Remembrance of Things Past

When we first learned of our impending grandparenthood, I lamented that I had very little recall of infant behavior. Friends assured me it would "all come back," but I was still skeptical.

Well, guess what? They were right.

Watching Connor and his parents get their bearings these first few days of life has brought back a flood of memories of my early days of parenthood. I remember how unsure I felt about everything, how I worried whether every little cry or tic or noise was "normal," how unsettling it was that every day was different and brought some new challenge. How strange it was to obsess over the amount and quality of pee and poop.

But this time is different because I now know all these things are part and parcel of being a baby and having a baby.

Right now on his third day of life, Connor's expectations revolve around being attached to his mother. Although I had completely forgotten that persistent need to "cluster feed" in preparation for real lactation to begin, I now remember experiencing it and how frantic I felt about it. Could it possibly be normal? Why does the child need to suckle every single minute? Am I going to be a milk cow for the rest of my life?

Most of all, with every difficult moment, I wondered "Is it always going to be this way?"

Of course now I know the answer to that question. Change is endemic to babies and children. Yesterday I was able to sit in a rocking chair and hold this sleeping baby for over two hours, and you can bet I savored every moment. When I was a young mother, I was often impatient with that process, thinking of all the other things I needed to be doing.

But now I know the opportunity for that kind of experience is relatively short-lived. Change will come, sooner rather than later.

Already today, Connor is more awake and alert, expecting more attention. He's enjoying walking through the house with his Daddy, listening to him retell the Peter Rabbit story, opening his navy blue eyes and trying to focus on the overhead lights, the whirling blades of the ceiling fan, his Dad's collection of model cars.

Tomorrow will be different too. And the next day after that. And all the days to come.

Today I'm just grateful for the remembrance of my past days of mothering, and even more grateful to have new memories to make with this little one.