Following up...

Yet another reason not to have more kids - fighting climate change one vasectomy at a time!

Oh, Paul.

Thanks for writing this. Too bad the people who need to read it won't.

Okay, now it's less hot.

But it's still really really hot - it'll be 101 degrees today. Skipper probably thinks every day is going to be spent like these last few - nursing a lot and wearing wet washcloths on her head. We missed by one degree beating the all-time record high temperature in Portland yesterday!

However, tonight will get down to a low of 65! Woohoo! And tomorrow may drop below 90 degrees!

Yes, it's boring, but weather forecasts obsess me this week. And I have nothing else to report. Pretty much all I think about is how hot I am, how hot I'm going to be, and how I can cool down. Though Cook and I feel like we're acclimating a bit. We're still miserable, but now it's kind of a normal miserable.

No, really, it's seriously hot.

It's the beginning of our third over-100-degrees-hot day. We survived yesterday by going to lots of air-conditioned places, and then lying around the park in the shade for four hours. (Cook met us there at 5:30, bringing the dinner we'd cooked in the morning). Then we went to the pool for "Family Play Swim" at 7:30 PM. Dutch showed off all her swimming skills, and Cook and I relished the feeling of actually being slightly chilled. Skipper liked the pool, but not so much the splashing of the nine thousand other people who were there.

I looked at myself in the mirror at one of our air-conditioned stops in the morning (Dutch had to pee), and was shocked. I looked like a refugee,* with greasy hair, shadowed eyes,** gnawed-on lips, and a general expression of sweatily miserable resignation.

It's just... so... hot. There was a breeze in the park, but it was a HOT breeze.*** And the nighttime cool-down isn't very cool, so there's very little respite. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow, when it's cooling down to 97! Woohoo!


* A fat refugee, perhaps fleeing some sort of molasses-flood-type disaster.

** Not only have Skipper and I both been sleeping poorly in the heat, but Dutch woke up panicky in the middle of the night before last, very upset because she was unable to sleep at all. I explained that she had, in fact, been sleeping solidly for hours. She said "Really?! I'm asleep right now!?"

*** Like the sirocco, except not as fast, or as dusty, or in Africa. But otherwise, very much like a sirocco, which was all I needed to go around whispering the word to myself all evening. Sirrrrrooooooccccoooo....

the hot

It peaked at 102 today, and it's 95 degrees now, at 9 PM. The overnight low will get down to 73, and tomorrow and Thursday are expected to hit 104, with even higher overnight lows.

Tomorrow, we'll be mostly at the park, in the deep shade - it's no fun for me to spend a long time there, because I can't put Skipper down for a nap and get a break from her, but it turns out it's also no fun for me to spend extremely hot days hiding out in our apartment, since everybody gets so hot and miserable. Dutch and I spent part of today arguing over where the fans should go. And it's really hard to get a baby to go to sleep when the air blowing over her is 100 degrees hot. At least she likes fans.

The beer wench dances

Videos!

Some things to note:

1. Our apartment is a mess (but we rearranged the furniture!).
2. Skipper is mystified by her own toes (and the fan).
3. Dutch is not going to make it to the 2012 Olympics.
4. Sleeping babies are funny.

deterioration

Today I walked to the grocery store with Dutch, leaving Cook home with Skipper. I pointed out to Dutch that we were free of Skipper, and that I was carrying no baby on my chest, and she said "Mom, show me how fast you can run!" I looked at her in puzzlement. "Can you run, Mom?" she asked. I gave a short disclaimer about how I couldn't run really fast because I'd probably pull a muscle, and then I ran a little. She said, laughing with delight, "Mom, I didn't know you could run!"

Apparently, because I've been pregnant or encumbered with a baby for nearly a quarter of her life, she thought I was incapable of running.

Tonight she said "Mom, I look cute in ponytails because my face is so young! It's not all screwed up like old people's faces." I pointed out that my face is "screwed up," and her face will become so, too. She said "Mom, are you still going to be alive when you're 25?" and I told her that I am, in fact, OLDER than 25. She said, in entirely genuine awe, "WOW!"

SO hot.

It's going to be a miserably hot week - it'll be over 95 the next four days, and over 100 on Tuesday and Wednesday. This would be easier to face if I wasn't unemployed with two kids to entertain. We can stay in the apartment with the shades drawn, moving as little as possible, until 1ish in the afternoon, and then I think we'll have to go to somewhere that's either deeply shady or air-conditioned. Or has water to play in. Actually, I may just fill the tub with lukewarm water for all three of us to sit in all afternoon. That's free.

The worst part of it is that poor Skipper gets hot and angry, and she wants to be comforted... by being picked up and rocked. Which makes her hotter. Which makes her angrier. So then we wet down her head and torso with a washcloth. Which makes her angrier. Etc.

No... the worst part of it is the sleeping. When I went on a trip down the Grand Canyon as a teenager, lo these many years ago, I would wet down my towel at night, lay it on my air mattress, and sleep on that, because otherwise I'd be unbearably hot. In the middle of the night I would wake up freezing cold, lying on a now-dry towel, and I would put it over me as a blanket. I'm thinking this week we could take some air mattresses down to the laundry room for sleeping.

But then it'll cool down by the end of the week, and the Big Cooks are coming for a visit! Hooray!

Reproduction

In my peer group, it appears that more and more people are having three kids instead of two.* Alpha Girl's mom, who has an older daughter as well, reported to me with amusement that not only is she often asked when she's going to have another child, but she's asked "don't you want to try for a boy?"

Um, no.

While we are not going to have a third kid (we can't afford it, and we're lazy, and really the last thing the planet needs is more people on it), I can understand the impulse. For me, the main draw is the science-experiment element - who's going to come out? I do love that part; it's really cool to see Dutch's personality unfold in all its scary glory. And there is something sad about knowing you're never going to have another baby. Maybe it has to do with facing mortality** - if you stop having kids, you must be getting old. Also, I'm ashamed to admit there seems to be some sort of competitiveness in it, at least for me - having fewer kids means you're selfish or wimpy.***

*USA Today says so, and I've seen it in my social circles as well. Therefore it must be so!

** And oh my god I just dicovered MY HAIRLINE IS RECEDING. Not only am I going to die, but I'm going to turn into an old man first.

*** True on both counts for me. Whatever.

baby

Skipper is a terrific baby. She is needy and frustrating* and all that, but really by far the easiest baby we've ever raised. Mostly, she SLEEPS! For about a month, she's been going to bed around 8 or 9 PM, and staying asleep usually until about 3 AM. She is able to fall asleep on her own, given certain conditions. If we can't get her to go to sleep on her own, we can put her down in the crib even when she's not completely asleep, and she can wake up a little and go back to sleep without screaming. When she wakes up, she usually doesn't instantly freak out (AAAAAAHHHH!!! I'M AWAKE!!!!!!!) like her sister did for her first two years of life. This amazes me. Dutch was a miserable sleeper. She completed her transformation to a decent sleeper about six months ago (finally staying in her own bed, or at least her own room, all night), more or less at age 4. We lived through it, but I hope it won't take Skipper that long.
Skipper likes to sit in her chair or lie on the floor and kick her legs madly while watching us, and is especially fascinated by Dutch. She likes to "stand" with us holding her hands. She tries to crawl, but can't get her rear and front ends to cooperate. She still talks, and sings herself to sleep. What a great baby.


*WHY do babies NEED so much!? No self-respecting giraffe baby would be this pathetic at 3 months of age. Stupid upright posture and giant heads.

hot

It's still hot. It's going to stay hot for a while. Yesterday, after a brave trip to the post office and grocery store, Dutch and Skipper and I hunkered down in the apartment with the blinds down. Skipper went down for a nap, and I taught Dutch the word "hedonism" - we had smoothies and quesadillas for lunch, and watched "Sleeping Beauty."*

* When the movie was over, I sent her straight off to quiet time, and she waltzed happily into her room without protest, murmuring "oh, my head is full of movie!"

Replay

This morning it was cold in the apartment, and I dressed Skipper (we were the only ones awake) in a sweatshirt. She was in her usual chipper morning mood, and was happy to sit in her chair and chat with me while I made breakfast. I took a picture. It's her three-month-aversary!And then I thought of my other baby, and this picture, taken when Dutch was 4 months old.

My girls. And my aptitude for picking up hand-me-down pale pink velour-y clothing.

Blah

I 'd like to write an interesting post. Even a boring update-y kind of post (for the grandparents!). But I don't seem to have it in me right now. It's hot, I'm pretty stressed out, and I seem to have very little free time on my hands (which, by the way are killing me with Itch - I seem to have this). So... I'll be back when the weather cools down. We're all fine and developing normally, more or less.

Checking in

How am I doing on my goals from the beginning of the summer?

1) Dress myself, and brush my teeth and hair. Most days, mostly.

2) Wash the breakfast dishes. Most days, mostly.

3) Feed myself and Dutch adequately. Most days, mostly.

4) Don't be mean to Dutch when she drives me crazy. Failing totally.

5) Make sure Dutch is active enough to get really sweaty at least once every day. She gets a little sweaty every day, and really sweaty some days.

6) Don't let Dutch get sunburned. Success!

7) Remember the first-aid kit on every playground trip. I haven't brought it once.

8) Make sure Skipper gets her down time. Most days, mostly.

Countering depression

I just ate about a pint of berries. I'm preparing another 12 pints or so for freezing. Next week: pesto!

23.5% depressed.

I just dipped my toes back in the scary, frigid trying-to-get-a-job pool, and was rejected (from an internship paying $12/hr at the agency where I interned last year) within two days of submitting my application. I didn't even rate an interview.

The most-broadly-defined jobless rate (including people who've given up looking for work and people who wish to be more employed than they are) is at 23.5% in Oregon. I bet it's even higher in Portland.

We really are going to have to leave the state. The thing is... I don't even know where we'll GO to find a job. Are there states that wish to hire liberal-arts types for planning-y sorts of jobs? Anywhere? I find it hard to imagine that we'll ever be completely employed again. Our temporary poverty is starting to look much more permanent, and we're starting to feel pretty grim. Okay, we were already feeling pretty grim, but now it's worse. The humiliation is really starting to feel ground in now, in a way it wasn't before, like it's not going to wash off ever.

But, hey, at least we don't live in a meth house! Nor are we being tortured. We are healthy and whole AND we have two lovely new quilts, and we were recently given a free crib by a kind stranger. Things could be a LOT worse.

More miscellany

One of my fabulous cousins bought Dutch a dress at a garage sale. It's a beer wench costume. Dutch thinks it's the prettiest thing ever ("I look JUST like Snow White!"), and she wears it as much as she is allowed.In other news, Skipper is getting really big.And jowly.

Swimming

Dutch LOVES swimming! She's badgering me to add more lessons to her already-swim-packed summer.

I'm impressed with what she's done so far. She's been brave and determined in making big leaps of faith (trusting her buoyancy! putting her head underwater!) and practicing relentlessly. In thirteen half-hour classes, she's gone from being very reluctant to put her head in the water to doing a "front glide" all by herself, which requires her to immerse her head and kick herself along with no help. They other kids in the class are happy to do what the teachers ask, but they're not particularly invested in any sort of outcome, as far as I can tell by their behavior. Dutch looks much more goal-oriented. She pushes herself; she asks the teachers if they'll let her take the next step (like trying to float by herself instead of with their support). I've never seen her do anything like that.

I'm not sure what exactly is propelling her determined progress. I think she likes the rapid improvement, she likes that Cook and I approve of it, she likes the idea of moving up to a more sophisticated class, and so on. She also seems to genuinely like swimming - she was delighted to frolic in the refreshingly chilly Deschutes last weekend.

So I got my wish. I've got a kid who likes swim lessons. Also, my dream of an idyllic summer of watching one kid learn to swim while the other kid sits cherubically in my lap also is sort of coming true. Skipper seems happy to sleep, nurse, or sit and watch the pool-related antics. She's a good baby. (Also, she sings! She's a weird baby.)

patriotic

Dutch is almost four years and eight months old. Skipper is almost three months old. We're getting old!

We had a wonderful weekend with family. Dutch had the best weekend of her life, I'm pretty sure. First, there was a parade, in which Dutch (along with half the population of the city) got to walk.
Skipper thought the parade was really exciting.
Then there was the river to swim in.*Then there was a huge garden to water and weed, and a dog to torture.
There were household chores to be done.There were fireworks to watch (no pictures, sorry), the national anthem to mangle... marshmallows to roast!

And there was horseback riding!

*Swimming deserves its own post. Dutch has been "swimming" 13 out of the last 15 days, and she loooooves it.