"You keep using that word..."

If I told you I'd been to the Samaritan Outpost here in town, where would you think I'd been? You might not know for sure, but you might assume something like a charitable organization or a medical clinic or something to help people, right?

According to the dictionary, "Samaritan" means "a charitable or helpful person (with reference to Luke 10:33)." But I think it only means that due to usage, similarly to how "literally" now means "in effect" or "virtually." Which is to say, that doesn't mean it's very precise.

Luke 10 contains a story about a Samaritan, true. But there is a qualifier. He was a "good" Samaritan. A Samaritan is actually "a member of a people inhabiting Samaria in biblical times, or of the modern community in the region of Nablus claiming descent from them, adhering to a form of Judaism accepting only its own ancient version of the Pentateuch as Scripture." It is also an adjective referring to someone from Samaria.

Using "Samaritan" to indicate someone or something charitable seems to me like naming all of the math tutoring centers "Chinese" and expecting that we'll all get what it means because, come on, right?

Another Bible thing the Christian vernacular has co-opted is "prodigal." It actually means "spending money or resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant." We use it to mean "back-slid" or "hopefully temporarily unrepentant" or "having strayed from the faith of one's youth."

"God is calling the person who spends money in a recklessly extravagant way, come without delay..."

Hey, it rhymes!

What else? Are there other terms from the Bible that we have made to mean something that, outside the context of the Bible, doesn't actually make sense?

But I'm not philosophically an attachment parent!

Last week, I posted a link to this article on my Facebook timeline. What resonated with me was this: "...if you dare complain how exhausted and crappy you are feeling, you are sure to get the same old answer: “you need to do ‘sleep training.'"

She goes on to explain how you don't "learn" to sleep the same way you learn to do things like ride a bike or play a piano, but at this point I'd say that trying to make Mal "learn" how to sleep on his own would be about as productive as trying to make him learn how to ride a bike. For whatever reason, he's not developmentally ready. I get that a lot of 6-month-olds are. He's not.

This isn't my first rodeo. My daughter slept mostly through the night from about 2 months on, except for one waking feeding jag that I had to wean her of at 9 months. She did *not* like that. But I was confident that her crying and displeasure was just her being ticked off, not genuinely harmed. There is a difference, and as my kids' mom, I can tell what it is.

For reasons I don't know or understand, Mal cannot go to sleep on his own. He cannot stay asleep on his own. He is getting worse about this, not better, as he approaches genuine separation anxiety. He needs me there. He wakes up and checks, and if I'm not within reach, he is inconsolable.

"Just let him cry until he wears himself out."

He has the capacity and tenacity to cry at increasing levels of hysterics for half an hour; maybe more, but I haven't tested. Anymore, every once in a while when I can tell he's super exhausted and is even crying and fighting me when I hold him, I'll put him in his crib so he can tire himself out a bit I'd love it if he'd tire himself out to sleep, but he doesn't. And after about 15-20 minutes, I go get him. Typically, he'll nurse to sleep in about 2 minutes after that.

Why do I go get him?

After a few minutes, this is what his bed looks like. He cries, spreading snot and tears all over the bed while he flails, rolls over, backs into the corner of the bed, pinning his legs behind him. He builds anxiety by crying (some babies release it). He needs help.

So I do what works.

Mal needs a nap about 2 hours after he wakes up in the morning. He won't go to sleep on his own, but gets really fussy. Typically, my teenager is still asleep. I can let Mal fuss on his own for hours, stressing myself and Daphne, or I can wear him, he'll conk out, and I can get some stuff done.

He needs another nap around 1:00-1:30. A lot of times, this is when I choose to run errands so he'll fall asleep in the car seat and maybe stay asleep when I get home and I can get some stuff done.

He needs a third nap (again, most kids his age are down to two daytime naps; he's not "most") around 4:30, and I sit down on the couch for that one, haul my ancient laptop or a favorite book, and hunker down because he'll sometimes sleep two hours. I try to have dinner mostly put together at that point, so if James gets home, he can make a plate and eat.

Here's the deal: Do I wish Mal would fall asleep (in his crib, on the couch, or even in the middle of the kitchen floor) so I could hot-roll my hair or really decorate a cake? YES. Am I going to try to force him to do something that, as the person who is with him the most, I know with all of my heart he is not able to do yet because I'm periodically exhausted? I can't. I don't feel like it's right or ethical or kind. Does this choice of mine mean that I have relinquished the right to complain (sometimes joking, sometimes seriously) about being weary? Some people seem to think so.

We do what works. What works isn't always easy. It isn't always ideal. It doesn't always make sense to people who aren't living my life. I promise you, I have had opinions about people who sleep with their babies and won't put them down. That was before this baby. That was before this lifetime.

My son is a joy, and a pleasure, and a challenge, and all of the things most kids are. They're a lot alike, but they're so different, too. There should be grace in each family's coping with the lives, personalities, and abilities they have been given. Don't you think?

Review: Plum Organics baby food, adult food, and website ordering

Friends and family members are making their own baby food, and talk about how easy and cost-effective it is. I believe them. But I'm tired. So I buy baby food. I reason that the boy won't be eating baby food for long (two teeth down, two more to go before he can get his chew on), and we don't have much room in the freezer to store what I'd make (I know, I know... it's not big). Also, we don't have anything appropriate for making baby food. I've tried with the food processor, but I'd have to make like 50 servings of carrots for it to work, and I'm afraid of freezer burn or the baby hating carrots after consuming that many.

Sounding defensive, huh? Well how about this: I love some of the choices that are out there. For Mal's "at home" food, I tend to stick with the Gerber food in plastic little tubs because it works out to about $.50 per tub, and that will typically last him 1.3 meals (he doesn't usually eat a whole one at breakfast, but will at dinner)... plus, some of the mixtures are awesome. Today, he had pear, zucchini, and corn. I like introducing him to a wide variety of flavors.

When we're out and about, it's easier to use pouches. They're more pricey, but I don't have to take a spoon. On vacation, we learned that the downside of eating out of a pouch for a week is that he gets super impatient with a spoon, since we have to "reload." He prefers to suck his food down all at once, even if that means backing up some of it on his face and chest, and being finished in 3 minutes.

Thus, we reserve pouches for visiting friends and eating in restaurants. My favorites are Plum Organics. I also like their "puffs" and teething biscuits (which, for "no mess" products are ridiculously difficult to clean up), and so does the boy.

I signed up for their email club to get coupons, and got a buy-one/get-one free which I used immediately. Then they sent me a coupon code for some money off of a new product they just released: pureed mixes for adults!

When I was expecting my teenager, I ate baby food because I wanted unsweetened apple sauce, but back in 2001, they didn't have apple sauce mixed with other fruits... except in baby food. Now, here are these things! I ordered two of everything they had, because I loved the idea.

Today, I tried the pear, kale, spinach, celery mix, and it was extremely refreshing. It has only 70 calories, and did a good job tiding me over between breakfast and the late (2:00 PM) lunch we were having with friends. I wasn't hungry until we got there, and I wasn't so full that I couldn't eat. I'm really excited to try the pineapple, carrot, mint but may keep that for last. Tomorrow, we'll move on to the cherry, berry, beet, and ginger.

While I was at the site, I ordered a few things for the boy child. Several of them, he has had before. Others, we're treading on new territory here.

He has eaten the sweet potato, mango, and millet, and really liked it. Also, for you cloth-diaper moms: so far, the food we've given him that has any kind of grain mixed in has resulted in well-formed (read: easily dumped) BumGenius filling. I appreciate that.

Today, Mal tried the pumpin, dates, oats, and chia. He loved it, judging by how quickly he sucked it down. I tried it, too; I try everything he eats, because if it's icky, I don't want to force it on him. It was a little sweeter than most of the veggie mixes he's had so far, and the chia is indiscernible, texture-wise. It actually reminded me a lot of pumpkin pie. Very nice.

Also, to try to remedy the rapid consummation of the food, I purchased these:

You screw it onto the top of the pouch, so you can spoon feed the food instead of having the baby slorp it all up. Well, that's the theory, anyway. In practice, the food squeezes out at the back of the spoon, and if you try to fill it up so it will push forward, the spoon wants instead to overflow at the back part of the spoon. When I feed Mal his regular food, I only put it on about 1/3 to 1/2 of the front of the spoon; otherwise, he makes a royal mess. We tried this for about three bites before it was more out of control than just letting him cram the plastic straw into his maw and go for it that way. Disappointing.

We haven't tired either of these yet, but Mal has liked the Chobani Greek yogurt with mango and spinach, so I have high hopes.

The thing about which I am most excited, though (apart from my own pouches of delicious mixes), is this:

It's their World Baby mixes, and I am super excited about exposing Mal to flavors he might not otherwise get until he can eat "real" food with us. If I were making his food at home, we could possibly end up with the Mexican and Italian varieties, but I doubt he'd ever eat lentils and roasted squash with apricots as a puree around here.

Looking around the website at Plum Organics, they have some neat kids' stuff, too. Next time I order, I want to try the Jammy Sammy (maybe all 4 varieties!) and the Go Bar because I know I'd like them, but I'm pretty sure my teenager would, too.

I received my order in just under a week, and shipping was a reasonable $7.99 for everything that I ordered. It's an indulgence, to be sure, and I won't be doing it every week, but maybe monthly we can find it in our food budget to get restock on the Plum Organics!

Also, if you join Club Plum, you get $10 off and free shipping on an order! Score! Now I'll try to be patient until we consume all of this stuff before ordering again...

Procrastination of the most romantic sort

In August 2013, I came up with some lyrics to a love song I thought it'd be neat to produce for James for our first anniversary. Well, guess what? I never did it. BUT I found the lyrics when I was looking for something else, and I thought I'd share them with you, because, trust me, you need this kind of thing in your life. Get some tissues ready.

Bee tee dubs, this was in response to the phrase, "I love you to the moon and back," which I have since learned is from a book, and I read that book, and in context, it's touching enough, but come on with the competitiveness, mom! (If I'm remembering correctly.)

And now, the song:

VERSE 1
Some people love to the moon and back
But that's not good enough
A lunar love will never do
Our love has the right stuff

To boldly go where none has gone
To strange new worlds and such
So when I tell you of my love
You need to know how much

CHORUS
I love you to Uranus
And we're never coming back
We'll hold our love together
Even if it starts to crack

A black hole's pull is not enough
To stop us or contain us
We're both in this together
And I love you to Uranus

VERSE 2
Our love is no mere gas giant
As anyone can see
I'll hold you 'till forever
They can't take the sky from me

And Milky Ways are tasty
But they're here and then they're gone
Well, even after supernova
You and I go on

CHORUS
Yes, I love you to Uranus
And we're never coming back
We'll hold our love together
Even if it starts to crack

A black hole's pull is not enough
To stop us or contain us
We're both in this together
And I love you to Uranus

BRIDGE
We're closer that Luke and Leia
We're closer than Leia and Han
We're closer than Han and Chewy
Our love goes on and on
(19.2 Atronomical Units, to be precise)

CHORUS 2
I love you to Uranus
Uranus is the place for me
We'll orbit side-by-side
'Cause that's the way that it should be

I'll never leave you blue
I'll not revoke your planethood
I love you to Uranus
Where our love is always good

Are Angels Entertaining Us?

I've posted a bit on here and Facebook about the homeless people with whom we come into contact. They are frequent and alternately (and sometimes simultaneously) heart-breaking and entertaining.

We also just see a lot of people by virtue of the fact that we are on a well-worn thoroughfare and people walk past the house to get to Taco Cabana, Chick-fil-A, and Jimmy Johns during the weekday lunch hours.

Lots of people (office workers and the down-and-out) walk by and see Mal, stop, and coo over him for a bit. I feel like he's some sort of cosmic Welcome Wagon that makes everyone feel a little better about their day (see "He's Such a Happy Baby!"), and love sitting out on the front porch with him.

A couple of people have suggested that we occasionally entertain angels, because people will show up, then mysteriously disappear (like in moments, not months like the crochet guy). This makes me laugh sometimes, because typically one of them will show up a few days later, burnt out of his gourd, and the thought of a hammered heavenly being is somewhat amusing to me. Flying, indeed.

One day, a gentleman who wasn't overtly homeless (transient? shelter? just fastidious about his cleanliness?) or professionally-employed stopped and said, "You have a blessin' from God right there." I agreed. Mal smiled at him, and, of course, it made his day. He said, "I have three packets of that..." he gestured, trying to think, "...those things. The wipes. You live here?" I told him that I did. He said, "I'm going to bring you one. I'll leave it on your porch."

I smiled and thanked him, but didn't expect anything.

About a week later, James had gone out to the trash and came back with this.

It made me smile, and it was humbling. Very often, after I talk to the people who walk past, I'm pretty sure they remember none of it. Some of them are in altered states. Some of them just have mental problems. Some are probably too focused on survival to think of me, and our baby, and where we live, and remember to bring us something.

Then, a week or so later, James brought this in from the front porch.

So, for all I know, we now have every single one of this gentleman's wipe collection. Here's something I've learned: Nothing else gets hardening teething biscuit goo off of my child (and table) like these wet wipes! Mal even loves sucking on them (before I catch him), even though they taste like medicine. I guess when you teeth hurt, you're desperate.

Once again, the thought of this man taking the time and effort to give us something when we have no genuine need but he likely does just hit me and made me grateful to God for the grace of his people.

Then, this morning...

Mal wasn't fully awake, but he was soaking wet. I got him up and changed him, then set about the morning tasks. I opened the blinds and saw this:

It's pears, pears and raspberries, sweet potatoes, carrots, and, of course, Jell-o cups. In all honesty, I will probably pass on the Jell-o cups. But the baby food is fully sealed, and it's the good stuff! This one, people, made me cry. I imagine a charity hand-out situation, and this man, thinking of Mal, and grabbing what he can, and passing it along.

This week, my family has seen God's protection and provision in a big way (more on that later), but sometimes the sweetest reminders can be the little things. This is definitely one of them. And maybe the angels are entertaining us.

Updates on everything!

Good Wednesday morning, people!

First up, I combined my two blogs, so this is the place for all of the action from here on out. If you're new to The Gatannah Files, welcome.

There is a lot going on with Team Dave's, and so I'll just start somewhere in the middle and we'll work our way out to everything eventually (as time will allow... meaning "as long as the child sleeps").

We terminated our offer contract on the weird-o house. Weird is good. $5500 in roof repairs (not replacement, guys, REPAIRS), $5000 to rebuild ducts and blow in some functioning insulation, plus the $7000 to replace the 15-year-old A/C/furnace, and however much to rewire the outlets so that they actually have, you know, ground wires, and then replacing the 15-year-old water heater, etc. etc. etc. was not okay.

We put in an offer on what was truly my dream house (even though they had no pantry) Saturday. It was in the neighborhood that is my favorite, near a park, near where we want to send Mal to school, near my sister, garden in the back yard, compost already set up, nice yard for mowing work-out, etc.

It was heart-breaking. I felt like God had saved us just for this house, but in the end, the sellers actually went with a lower bid that wasn't a VA loan. They said they were afraid the appraisal would come in under sales price, and we agreed to make up the difference to a certain amount if that were the case, but our loan officer said that has only happened twice that he can remember, and the second one is under review right now. He said the VA scares people because they think they're practically going to have to rebuilt their house before the loan will be approved. Not true. And so we journey onward.

Sort of.

James was looking at houses later that night, but I seriously felt like someone I loved had broken up with me, and I wasn't in the mood to browse OK Cupid. *sigh* Boys.

We're looking at several houses this weekend that are way out of town, and this will change a lot of things for us. Most important is James' commute, and everything else we can figure out once we shake down.

In the baby department, Mal is almost six months old. He has two teeth and is babbling up a storm. He has outgrown his colic and tends to be in a great mood when he's not in toothing pain or overly tired or not being held and unhappy about that.

Although he continues not to sleep except when in our bed or being held, I'm developing coping mechanisms. For instance, yesterday I colored my hair for the first time with no one at home to watch the baby. I got some dye on the back of his shirt, he screamed the entire time I was in the shower (even though he was literally just on the other side of the curtain), and I realize today that the color somehow didn't take in the middle of my hair (like roots are done, ends are done, and somehow the middle isn't; oh well, it'll wash out eventually and be even). So it's not perfect, but it works.

Also, I've realized that if I put Mal to sleep (read: nurse him) in our bed, I can get up and get some things done before turning in myself. This works especially well if James (or a cat) is already in bed.

Obligatory cute baby picture. Here, he's wearing a sweater gown that was his dad's.

Daphne... well, this week it was like a time machine. Daphne was me at her age, and "Gravity Falls" was "Scarecrow and Mrs. King." There was a new episode that was set to live-stream, and she managed to get into the stream early in the evening (they were showing the episodes leading up to the new one.) She warned me two hours before it came on that if James got home late, she might "rush through dinner," and later, when I was listening to internet radio. asked if I'd mind not playing anything out loud during the half hour her show was on. "Not now. But at 7:30."

She did wolf down her dinner "because I was hungry, and because I'm amped," then she excused herself. She watched the show pretty much in silence, then at the very end, when a big reveal was presented, she laugh/sobbed for about 5 minutes. She was shaking and typing frantically. I was a little jealous that she had a whole internet full of Tumblrers who were also excited and she got to share that moment with other fans. It was always just me at my computer after "Scarecrow and Mrs. King," literally typing up as much of the script as I could remember, since this was like 3 years before we got a VCR. And ten years before we had CompuServe. And I don't think there were any listservs or news boards dedicated to fantasy dramas at that point, anyway.

Memories. Good times.

Today, for the first time in three months, I saw the crochet guy! I'm glad he's back around. I was heading home carrying 2 24" x 36" canvas prints, 2 11" x 8" prints, and a bag from CVS (I was in denial about their size when I picked them up, but not after the half mile walk home), but can't wait to talk to him about what's going on with him.

I was thinking the other day about things on which I have wasted money in the past year. They include: a baby swing; a bouncy seat; any clothes I've bought for Daphne without vetting them out with her, and several that I have; another baby swing; a crib (so far... although the cats really enjoy it and it does convert to a toddler and then day bed, so maybe there's hope?); a bunch of new shirts that I loved on Zulily but didn't think about the fact that I'd be nursing for who knows how long. There is probably more, but that represents a lot of moolah.

Okay, I think that's most of the catching up we have to do. Until we meet again...

The thing about vulnerability...

Mal is five months old now and so much is awesome about him... but right now, I am discouraged, He is healthy. He is often hysterically happy. He makes us (James and me) laugh a lot. But he continues to be very, very demanding of my time and attention and I am weary.

"But of course he does!" you say. "He's a baby!"

No, I had another baby before this. I was not still strategizing my showers at this point. I was able to fix my hair. I could put on make-up other than when I was driving. I could make cinnamon rolls.

Mal's inability to sleep when he's down or alone is exhausting. I prioritize sitting because I know he needs sleep or he wouldn't be asleep, but I think of all I need to be doing and it stresses me out that I can't take care of these things when he's napping. He naps about 3 times a day, for 20 minutes to 2 hours. That's a lot of sitting for me. The only break I get is if he falls asleep in the car seat when we're out, and then I can usually buy 5 minutes to an hour.

So I first of all repent. I repent of the times I clucked my tongue at a mom "letting herself go." Or judged the BSF moms who never got their lessons done because, come on, we all have 24 hours in a day and it's just not that hard. Or developed a complete opinion of someone based on the fact that they shared a bed with their baby. I truly had no idea that a baby could be so needy for so long, and I am humbled.

There's this thing, though... I want to reach out. I want to ask for prayer. I want to stop crying at the drop of a hat and of being on the verge of a meltdown pretty much every second of every day. I love that my friends will do this for me. But there's another contingency of people who will add to their promise to pray with advice.

Well-meaning, but exhausting.

"You just have to..." they start out, often suggesting things I've tried that haven't worked for us. And often sounding so simple that you'd really have to be a dunderhead not to have it be successful for you. And it makes the stress WORSE.

"Moms have to take care of themselves first, or they can't take care of their families."

Sort of, yeah. But for a long stretch of time, that's proven impossible for me. Except for stress-eating. I'm doing that. That's how I'm taking care of me, I suppose. It's not horribly healthy, is it?

I'm leaving Mal alone in the church nursery. He has made it for half an hour twice. I don't really care to go anywhere for half an hour, so leaving him at home with someone (other than my sister) isn't an option.

This is where people say, "At some point, he's just going to have to cry."

Well, here's the deal: He's my kid, and I know him. I'm so much better at reading what he needs and wants, but there are some cries that are just absolute misery, and he's not going to calm down without me (and sometimes, he's not going to calm down with me). He gets a scared look in his eyes like "Why is this happening?" and I'm not going to leave him to deal with that alone until he's trained not to show his emotion.

There is a difference in fussiness and hysterics. I will often lay him down in his crib when he's fussy and I can't soothe him; very often, he'll calm down a bit... but never -- except that once a month ago -- go to sleep. At some point, he'll start realizing I'm not planning to come back, and he gets upset. VERY upset. Like, screaming, hyperventilating, rolling over and backing into the crib slats, getting his legs stuck awkwardly fits. The good part about this is that he usually manages to clear out his nasal congestion, very often all over his face or sheets. But that's one less thing for me to do, I suppose.

Anyway, this is all very defensive, and it's my point.

When well-meaning people give well-meaning advice, it can still put me on the defensive. I promise you, I'm trying a little bit of everything. My mom's heart and intuition tells me to keep doing what we're doing. I can only lie him down when he's sleeping and have him wake up instantly about 2-3 times before it makes me crazy, and I just have to hold him and let him get the rest he needs so he doesn't drive me crazy fussing from tiredness the rest of the day.

But the fact that I am pretty confident that we're on the right course with Mal does not lessen the stress of the moment. I don't know how much longer it's going to be like this. Forever? I cannot imagine how parents of special (constant) needs kids do it, especially if they already have children. Maybe he'll outgrow all of this when he's a year old. Or two. But I don't know. So even though I feel like we're doing the best we can for him and for us, I am deeply saddened by the fact that the rest of my family has to suffer with less attentive care (James is pretty okay with it; Daphne is another story). I am sad that I don't look "shiny" like I do in older pictures. I'm sad that I can't bake, or buy my own groceries, or clean my own house. I'm discouraged that I often wait hours from the first time I realize I need to use the restroom until I actually go. And this is not a matter of not wanting Mal to cry; it's a matter of his being asleep and my knowing he needs a full nap, so I dare not move lest he wake up.

Even moving into the kitchen to write this (with him on my lap on the nursing pillow), I had to get up from his floor, where I had been nursing him until my back started hurting, and he woke up and screamed and shook (he has a wonky little underdeveloped nervous system) until I was able to nurse him again and put him back to sleep.

Yesterday, I was talking to Daphne about this and told her that it's difficult, but probably the true way to look at things: We've talked before about how it seems like once you get all comfy in your life, things change. I told her that God doesn't necessarily want us to be "comfortable," as much as he wants us to be happy and fulfilled in him. I said that as taxing, exhausting, and even, yes, downright annoying as she might find her little brother, every time we start to get too stressed out, we have the choice to feed the part that says, "OMG, I can't even," or to choose to love a person who obviously needs more love and attention than other people do.

I firmly believe that God is using Mal to further smooth out my rough edges. And, dude, do I have them. With all of that in mind, I'd appreciate your prayers for me, my awesome husband, my sweet tired adolescent, and my teething buddy. And I'd appreciate it if you otherwise kept your mouth shut. :)