8. Why things don’t get done

My last post was on Day 5 this month, but it’s still stuck in my phone.

“Post failed to upload,” my WordPress app. Namecheap thought they fixed it – the fight between my app and my website. And now I don’t have time/energy to tell them it’s broken again.

I have to stop using that app

Or I’ll never blog again. It breaks all the time.

There’s been another reason blog posts don’t get done since my baby appeared: I like to write on my phone while in bed, but I can’t take my phone to bed anymore because I’ve had to wake up every 3-4 hours to make milk, and if I keep my phone with me I’ll shut off the alarm in my sleep. So the phone goes on a high cabinet on the other side of the room each night, so I have to get out of bed to stop my alarm. And while I’m out of bed, I can stay awake long enough to go pump milk.

This post is about the small things that get in your way: The buggy app, the phone on the other side of the room, a change in your necessary routines.

My husband’s birthday was today. That means I made extra efforts today, and in a life so full, extra efforts push other efforts out. Decorations instead of sleep. Shopping for cake ingredients and gifts instead of work. Baking cake and going out to dinner celebrating instead of working out. But I can blog while I pump milk, and sometimes I can work. Although I should be doing something more relaxing instead. Better for the milk to flow.


4. The local mailmen (an observation!)

Yesterday, I saw the mailman for the neighborhood next to ours while I was out strolling with the baby and exploring. He looked just like our mailman, in that he had a slight build, long hair AND a long beard, and avoided eye contact. I reasoned there must be two types of individuals that choose a career in delivering mail: (1) the stereotypical social, like to see the neighborhood and chat with the neighbors every day (you know, like the joke about the kid’s father actually being the mailman), and (2) the anti-social person who enjoys working in quiet and isolation.

I bought a cute little sticker from a Facebook Marketplace vendor that you can put inside your mailbox to thank your mailperson. I thought it might show our appreciation, even if we have little interaction. It has hearts and a mail truck and the words “Thank you!” One day, I was outside when our mailman approached and I gave a friendly wave just to show that my sticker was genuine. As half-expected, I got a painfully polite half wave that indicated my social connection was unnecessary. Type 2!


3. Lucky

I had a beautiful fall walk with my baby today.

I reminded myself of how lucky we are. How lucky I am, to have found a loving partner, and to have made this beautiful child. These have always felt like monumental aspirations to me, and I remember the relief of that positive pregnancy test, after a long year and a half of COVID and two years of trying.

I learned today that Earth is the only planet with a continually active mantle in our solar system, circulating liquid rock and thus creating a protective electromagnetic field. How lucky is that? I wonder if any other planets were more hospitable than Earth at different times in the past.

I sang row, row, row your boat tonight. Gently down the stream. Life is but a dream. I’m grateful for the constants in my life. The laundry. The dishes. The meals. The transitions from night to day. The little landmarks that allow this strange dream of a life to seem more real, more ordinary. I wonder if other people ponder the mystery and wonder of existence as much as I do. I don’t think people do, and I don’t think it’s very healthy either. The scale of our small existence relative to the known and unknown universe boggles the mind, and threatens the ordinary.

I attended some college courses with a genius 8 year old. She was dissuaded from studying astrophysics and was literally told (quite sexist-ly) by a department head, that it was bad for women’s health. Suicide rates do tend to be high in such fields, gender aside.

But rowing my boat gently and merrily tomorrow feels like a beautiful intention for a day. And when days feel intentional, the mystery is easier to live with.


2. #NaNoPoblano

I’m a descendant of preachers, missionaries, rock climbers, bar owners, and mail ladies/men. I’m a descendant of soldiers, pioneers, lawyers, realtors, boarding-house runners, sheriffs, engineers, and birthers. There’s some intensity in our blood. I say that to say I see that energy manifest in my family in interesting ways. I don’t have time to elaborate tonight.

A lot of people are playing the lottery this week. I’m told the jackpot is over $1.6billion. One person may win that. I also saw a LinkedIn post today reminding us that if we have a roof over our head etc we are richer than 75% of humans. It’s easy to get myopic in America.

1. First post – #NaNoPoblano

Mood: After 10 years of weight gain, Halloween is every time I see a photo of myself.

I wondered this week at the grocery store, if I had married someone who enjoyed diversity in food, would I be cooking a Thai pumpkin curry this week instead of something more ordinary? Would my menus and body and life be completely different? No doubt. But I needed someone who could ground my chaos.

I peel the flanges off my breasts, 7 and half months of pumping milk for my baby in the middle of the night. I have mini nightmares right before my night alarms (my alarms go off every 4 hours). My body goes into semi-wakefulness and my mind overanalyzes the last segment of my last dream, on repeat. Sometimes I know this means I am about to be woken up.

I get such joy from re-reading my old blog posts. So my goal is to post every day this month to get back into the habit. I’ve experienced so much this year, and I’d like to remember some of it.


With the quick snapping back of a wobbly neck

My foundation cracks, tears flow

I can’t keep you safe in their arms

And has your spine curved your neck too much today anyway?

Did I not do enough to stop it?

You didn’t eat much this morning

And we meet with the feeding team on Wednesday

They don’t see what we see

A happy healthy baby

They say you’re not on the right curve

So many curves you have thrown us already

Young Tiger

My legs are exhausted from all the tension

Grounding myself firmly so that you have a steady nap

Or so I can rock away your uneasiness


I never quite anticipated the exhaustion

Even though I have an amazing support system…

I have to lean against the stairwell wall to descend safely, each six times per day that I go down to prepare bottles from my pumped milk

My thighs unsteady, my Achilles aching.

“You just had major surgery,” I can still hear the nurse chastising, when I refused pain meds on Day 3.

The majorness now sinks deep into my low back, which sears hot whenever I tilt my pelvis the wrong way

The majorness keeps me from returning to an exercise regimen, my mildly split abdomen struggling to hold me tight

My breathing, once full, is now shallow and full of worry, causing my digestion to slow and body to tense and vent

Tender pink lines crawl all across my pouching lower belly, a forever story of our expansion

Isn’t it great that the body forgets all of this? Someone said to me recently. I won’t forget.

27 weeks

We wrote an offer on a house today

Almost 2.0 years since my last offer

I don’t know why autocorrect thinks I mean 2.0 whenever I type 20

I’m not that high-tech

I barely fit my belly in the booth at the Mexican restaurant today

2 glasses of milk with lunch

Finally I can write about my pregnancy

Today my hips ache and I walk in heavy baby steps to start. Belly strains where it meets the ribs, forcing me to lift my heavy chest for room to breathe.

Bun-bun sits upright, kicking my bladder from time to time

A two pound head of lettuce

Our wood floor has become slippery, not wet, ever since we installed a humidifier. I have to walk with extra care.

We still get cigarette or weed smoke in one side of our apartment almost every night or day. It’s time to leave.

I’m trying to keep my blood pressure low. Today was not a great day for that.

Day 2 in Chelsea

When you are new to a thing, your learning curve is really high, so I’m hoping to capture some of the things I am learning as I move in to my new place here in Massachusetts.

Did you know that soap can go bad? I’ve kept little hard hotel soaps in my travel bag for probably a couple years or more, and I have learned by trying to use them that they can go bad.

There are lots of little neat things that are different when you go shopping here. I’ve noticed more things that are imported from Europe, and generally I’ve found that prices are cheaper here for groceries. Gasoline is about a dollar cheaper here than it was when I left California.

I came across my first Massachusetts sidewalk “free pile” today. It included some Ray-Ban sunglasses and a cool antique floor lamp. But I only grabbed an American flag pin. I like checking out local free piles. To me it’s like anthropology, “how do the locals live,“ LOL

The weather outside today was warmish but not at all oppressive. I am really enjoying the pleasant weather.

I kept the kitty locked up in the bathroom last night because the night before he got so scared of all the noises and hid behind the washer and dryer and I sincerely thought he had somehow escaped when he didn’t come at my call for several minutes. I think he might’ve been coming down off of his gabapentin drug and was a little extra paranoid. Note to self for future reference to keep him in a small room overnight the first couple nights. Tonight I’m leaving the bathroom door cracked open so he can go in and out if he feels like it.

I am in bed at 2:00 AM, a whole hour earlier than last night! I just have a ton of things to do and I’m hoping to get a little more rest eventually.

So far I’m getting by OK with very minimal stuff. It’s an interesting transition. I might be without most of my possessions for four or 5 weeks in total.

Off to bed then.