McCain?

Will thinks Emmett looks like John McCain in this outfit. Hopefully he will never know who McCain is.

In the Wild

Although Spinoza doesn't acknowledge any distinction between nature and culture (humans and everything we do and make are different ways nature exists, no different from waterfalls and rainbows), I keep thinking/ lamenting that Emmett and I would not have survived "in the wild." We had this insanely long labor even WITH artificial hormones to accelerate the contractions. Feeding him "naturally" has required a whole arsenal of technology and state sponsored intervention. I keep feeling like we would have been left behind by the herd or exposed to the elements for our unfitness (though, in reality, living in a herd would probably have major advantages compared with our nuclear family thousands of miles from the nearest relative). In other words, I keep feeling horribly guilty and incompetent, which is resulting in these ridiculous hypothetical scenarios worthy of the imagination of Ayn Rand or some pop sociobiologist. This is also just a way of saying that labor and tending to a new infant are hard work (duh, labor = work) and don't flow seamlessly and unconsciously from my being. It so often feels too hard, out of reach, and I am straining so often. Part of me must have imagined mothering as a salutary animal complement to my intellectual labor, which is totally contrary to all that I intellectually hold to be true (my feminism, among other things, totally rejects such stupid ideas). Maybe after enough work, some of this will become second nature. Or maybe a nice day at the spa will make me feel less physically unfit. Some day... In the meantime, I try to appreciate the beautiful vitality that is Emmett. He is a stunning force of nature. These pics are just cute. He is a month old now, enjoying the lap of his maternal grandma and framed by one of daddy's many sleater-kinney tee's.

New Photos

Mind's not working today. Say it in pictures instead of words.

DIY Punk

Emmett is already way punk. Here are some outfits decorated by Charlotte (age 6) and Jasper (age 4). We love them both and think the blue has an awesome 80's punk feel. Thanks Charlotte and Jasper!

The Parent Thing

I feel like we are figuring out how to survive this parent thing--basically, all is good if the baby is eating, sleeping, or being held. He doesn't mind diapers, baths, or much of anything IF you are holding him. If I am alone, however, and need to go to the bathroom, or do anything without holding him, and he is awake, cries of tragic proportions may be heard. But, if there are two of us, we can go through a whole day and night with almost no crying. It is enough to make one feel supremely competent, even when slurring speech from lack of sleep. It also helps that we are both increasingly smitten with the creature. It was so cool watching Will last night when he came home from teaching. He was so enchanted. He kept saying that Emmett is perfect, amazing, and wonderful. It is really fun to watch their love affair. Basically, if we never had to do anything but parent, we would be awesome. But, alas, Will has to work, I have a paper to finish, letters of rec to write, and we have our own corporeal and spiritual needs to meet. It is incredible that so many people do this, and so often without the time off or institutional support. Parents rock... and special hats off to women since they have to birth and may take on the massive bodily effort of nursing... which really, really sucks, btw. They say it gets better, but it seems so wrong that the start is so ridiculously rough (not universally, but very frequently and definitely in my case). I am very impressed that humans are not extinct. Something so "natural" and necessary for survival should not be so agonizing. But, then again, as Nietzsche observes, life is agon rather than harmony. Emmett's t-shirt, a gift from aunt Carrie, acknowledges a mother's Dionysian suffering. Thanks, C.

Absence, fonder, yadda yadda. You know the drill.

I've been quite enamored of the little guy this afternoon and evening. Being away from him for my first day back at work made my return to him intensely pleasant. Here are some pictures I took during our time together. I think they convey how much his face can change. This is the pensive baby we saw the first day.

Hubris

24 beautiful hours. 4 wretched ones. Inconsolable baby paid a visit last night. Must take it day by day, or bird by bird, as Anne Lammott suggests in her lovely little book.