Blue Feather

Milk Brain

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Sun, 5 Oct 08 20:23:00 UT

I've got Milk Brain.

While I was pregnant, I suffered from forgetfulness, or what I'd call "preggohead": I'd forget to call people back. I'd go into a room and forget why. I'd even forget if I'd eaten (not that it mattered; at the end of my pregnancy, I was eating constantly!). Everything I'd read said that it was typical and I thought it would go away after birth. Well, maybe the pregnancy part of it did, but now I've got what I call "Milk Brain". It's even a little worse than preggohead: I've missed birthdays and anniversaries, I've gone to the store and forgotten what I meant to buy, I've missed appointments, I've made plans with people and forgotten. And I'm constantly forgetting what people tell me (or so Peat says). But most of all, I'm having the hardest time just remembering basic vocabulary! I'll be talking to someone and trying to make an important point, and the word I need will completely elude me. Or I'll forget the point I'm trying to make entirely! It's like I'm high, but without the euphoria and creativity. This blog entry, for example, began as one huge paragraph that went nowhere and took me forever to write!

Since it seemed to get worse once my milk came in and I started to breastfeed, I'm calling it Milk Brain. The Brits are calling it "mumnesia". According to the Daily Mail, "Breast-feeding... increases the time women suffer from this forgetfulness because it circulates hormones which help mothers relax and promote a 'mellow, mildly unfocused feeling'." So it is kind of like being high. It's nice that there's an actual scientific reason behind it.

But I'm sure I'll forget that.

Practically Perfect In Every Way

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Tue, 16 Sep 08 10:54:00 UT

My baby is awesome.

I know, I know. All parents feel that way. But mine really is!

She's 8 weeks old, and the most adorable thing I've ever seen. I can't believe I helped create something so precious. She's starting to smile and giggle, and every time she does, my heart explodes.

She's an easy baby to live with, too. She only gets upset when she's hungry or has a dirty diaper. She sleeps through noise and light, and at night can doze for 5 hours at a time!

She's practically perfect in every way.

There's just one issue: She needs to wear a brace all day, every day, for the next 3 months at least. She was born with hip dysplasia, which I thought only affected large dogs. But it turns out that because she was so cramped in my uterus, her hips didn't develop properly. So she needs to wear this, called a Pavlik Harness:

She doesn't seem to mind it so much, but it took a while for me to get used to it. And even though we had been told early on that it was a possibility she would need it, I still burst into tears when the doctor put it on her two weeks ago. It's hard to see a little baby trussed up like that, even though I know this will help her little hips to develop properly.

But it's been 14 days now, and the only time she seems to mind it is when I'm putting it on her after her bath, or if she tries to move around in her crib. Most of the time, she's too busy eating, pooping, or watching her mobiles to worry about it. And when it's all done and her hips are formed as they should be and she's learning to walk, she won't even remember wearing it.

And hopefully by then, I'll get over it, too.

In Memorium: Max Powers

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Tue, 9 Sep 08 12:23:00 UT

It is with profound sadness that I announce the sudden passing of Max Powers, kitten extraordinaire.

Last week, Max displayed behavior completely uncharacteristic of his usual friendly, albeit scaredy, self: he crapped on our bed. At first, I thought it was just his way of protesting the arrival of baby Cassandra and the fact that I haven't been giving him as much attention. But then he also threw up and started urinating outside the litter box - and also on our bed. I knew something was decidedly wrong, so I took him to the emergency vet. He had a urinary tract infection.

I had a slight breakdown.

Urinary tract infections are very dangerous in cats - they can lead to urethral blockage, kidney failure, and death. So I didn't waste time in trying to treat the problem. Unfortunately, the emergency room was incredibly busy that night (Labor Day), being the only emergency vet open that weekend, so I waited 3 hours before seeing a doctor. But when we were seen, my fears were confirmed: UTI. We were given antibiotics and sent home.

Since Peat was away in London, I was going to be staying with my parents for the latter part of the week. I decided to take Max to our regular vet and board him there so they could administer his medication and monitor his progress. (No easy feat: in order to get Max Powers into his kitty carrier, one had to don oven mitts and practically hog-tie him. He was terrified of the carrier and wouldn't be picked up for love or money. And back claws can do as much harm as front claws. I still have two scratches left from him.)

So we went to the vet where I saw the cage he would be staying in. I scratched his head and told him he was a good boy and kissed him goodbye. Later that day, I got a call saying he developed a urethral blockage and needed surgery. I okayed whatever it took to make him well, but that evening I received another call telling me that while under the anesthesia, Max went into cardiac and respiratory arrest. He just stopped breathing.

My mother-in-law was staying with me in Peat's absence, and I'm so glad she was there. She knew Max and has owned cats for years, so she knew what I was going through. She also knew how hard it would be to tell Peat, especially while he was away on the most important trip of his life. We decided that while I needed to tell him, I should wait until all the business-related stuff was over so as not to put a pall on all the wonderfulness he was experiencing.

Now we're both back home with Jinx, who has been more affectionate than ever before. She follows us around the house, she sleeps with us, and she wants to play more. It's almost as if she's incorporated the friendliness of Max into her own personality. Maybe Max passed his katra on to Jinx before he died.

"He's not really dead. Not as long as we remember him."

Cassie's First Fortnight

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Wed, 6 Aug 08 11:55:00 UT

Two weeks ago, I gave birth to Cassandra Hope, shown here:

It was quite an ordeal: I was a week late, so I went into the hospital midnight Tuesday night to be induced. By 3am I was having my first contractions, and 12 hours later I started pushing. An hour and a half after that, my doctor realized that Cassie wouldn't fit the regular way, so I was wheeled into the OR for an emergency Cesaerian. And at 4:35pm, I was a mom!

Unfortunately, afterwards I spiked a fever, so they gave me antibiotics, which led to a flaming case of C-dif, a horrible intestinal infection. I was dehydrated and on I.V. fluids, not to mention in tons of pain. I'm still on super-antibiotics to fight it off, as well as motrin and percocet.

I don't think I have to mention that Peat was with me the whole time, worrying and calming me down. I don't know what I would have done without him. He slept in a chair in my room just to be near me and the baby, he fought with the nursing staff, and he changed diapers like a pro. It couldn't have been easy seeing me as miserable as I was when we had such a joyous event to celebrate. But his presence was more soothing than an entire bottle of painkillers.

Finally, after a week in the hospital, mommy, daddy and baby Cassie were allowed to go home. It's been a long, slow, frustrating recovery - and will take about 4 more weeks, give or take, before I'm even close to 100% again - but it's totally worth it.

Happy 2 Weeks, Cassie. We love you!

Big Bouncing Bellyful of Baby

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Tue, 15 Jul 08 13:04:00 UT

I hit 40 weeks of pregnancy today, and I still haven't given birth yet. I'm huge. I'm having trouble walking, rolling over in bed, breathing. My feet are so puffy I can't bend my toes, my hands feel arthritic, and I can't reach the sink to brush my teeth without dribbling toothpaste on my stomach.

And yet, for all that, it's still sort of nice to be pregnant.

The baby is moving around a lot, which is surprising since there's less and less room in there for her. But I can see my stomach rippling as her hands and feet flutter around and push outwards. It's wild. Sometimes painful, frequently uncomfortable, but wild.

It's really weird knowing there's a whole separate person growing inside you, a person who will grow up with her own hopes and dreams and neuroses and fears and loves and hates and needs and wants. Strange to think that this creature pummelling my innards will one day go to school, drive a car, fall in love. All I want is for her to be healthy and happy, and I'm terrified of her being neither. I'm not ready to deal with illness or colic or sadness. But I know that as soon as she comes out, I'll have to learn to deal with all that and more.

Which is why it's still nice to be pregnant, even with all the discomfort. At least I know she's safe and warm. And getting lots of exercise.

The Kindness of Strangers

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Fri, 4 Jul 08 12:11:00 UT

This is New York, so I'm used to people being rude, even to a 9 1/2-month pregnant lady like myself. I've been pushed aside, bumped into, doors slammed in my face, you name it. Once in a while, people will behave like human beings and give up their seat on the subway or something. But this story goes into the history books:

I went to the doctor yesterday for my weekly check-up, and afterward I grabbed some lunch at Starbucks. All I really wanted was an iced decaf and an overpriced piece of cake, but I figured I should get a sandwich too, since the baby probably needed some protein. So I grabbed a mozzarella pesto brioche thing and waited on line.

When I got up to the cashier, the woman in front of me said, "Please use my gift card on her lunch, too." I was flabbergasted! I said that wasn't necessary and thanked her profusely, but she insisted. She said, "You have to take care of that baby, and I'd like to treat you both to lunch." The only problem was that her card had run out, so I had a $5 balance to pay, which was fine with me -- that was half of what my lunch would have normally cost! So again, I thanked the woman for her generosity and told her that she would still have good karma. But my new friend wouldn't hear of me paying, so she threw a fiver into my bag! Then she went her way and I went mine, and I smiled as I ate my lunch, wondering at the kindness of strangers.

So Thank You, thoughtful mystery lunch benefactrix! I hope your generosity comes back to you ten-fold!

That was the best iced decaf I ever had.

Look, Ma, No Hands!

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Tue, 17 Jun 08 18:53:00 UT

Squirmy and I are talented:

Tah daaaah!!!

New Nephew!

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Fri, 13 Jun 08 13:09:00 UT

Ladies and Gentlemen, please help me welcome my new nephew, Zack, to the world!

Here he is in his Uncle Peat's arms:

And here he is being kicked by his unborn cousin:

Don't Get Around Much Any More

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Wed, 4 Jun 08 10:59:00 UT

I don't get around much any more. I'm 8 1/2 months (34 weeks) pregnant. I can't see my feet, which hurt all the time. My legs always feel like they're falling asleep. My belly is heavy and always moving (thanks, Princess Pokey). My back aches and it's hard to bend or sit for long periods of time. And I'm waking up every 2 hours to either stretch my aching legs or go to the bathroom or both, so I'm never fully rested.

Needless to say, it's getting more and more difficult to get around. Walking is exhausting - it feels like I've got "museum feet" all the time (you know, the tired feeling you get after walking around a museum all day on hard marble floors?).

So, in order to make travel easier (and in anticipation of when the baby comes), we got a car. (See, hospitals won't let you take a baby home without a car seat, and in order to have a car seat, you need a car.)

Having a car is weird. Born and raised in Manhattan, I never had a car of my own. Even when I moved to NJ in high school, I used to borrow my dad's car once in a while and drive up and down 9W or the Palisades. But the only responsibility I had was to fill it up, which was full-service (state law in NJ), and wash it occasionally (which I did in the driveway on hot summer days), and then return it.

But now I have to worry about parking it (and moving it for alternate side), keeping it clean, filling it up, and maintaining it. Of course, I'll have to do all that for the baby, too...

But when both the car and the baby are running smoothly, I'll be able to get around again. And I'll teach her how nice a drive in the country can be - especially for naps!

Embracing the Pink

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Sat, 17 May 08 19:41:00 UT

I'm cute. I admit it. I've fought it for years, denied it, attempted to circumvent it, but I've finally reconciled myself to it. I'm small, I generally have a bubbly personality, I'm cute. It's a cross I have to bear.

At my core, though, I have a slightly rebellious nature. People called me cute, so I wore the most un-cute things I could think of. All through high school and college, my wardrobe color of choice was black. My friend Demin called me Death Girl.(This was in olden times, before "Goth" was a Recognized Style.) Pants, shirts, sweaters, coats: black, black, black, black. One day, I think I wore something blue, and my friend Bo looked at me and said, "You're wearing colors!"

The cigar-smoking anti-cute:

Even after college, I wore the typical New Yorker dress code: dark, muted greys, navys, deep greens, eggplants. A few years ago I branched out into browns. But recently, colors have been added to the fashions of the day. Sometimes I indulge in green, blue or lilac; if I'm daring, I occasionally even wear red.

But pink? HELLS, NO!!! No pink in my house, ever!!

That is, until I discovered I was having a baby girl.

We went to register for her layette (baby clothes like onesies and nighties, blankets, towels, etc.), and of course, EVERYTHING was pink. My shopping basket looked like a bottle of Pepto Bismol had exploded. My hubby said, "Why is everything pink?" to which my step-mother replied, "Because you're having a girl!"

At first, my natural instinct was to rebel. So what if it's a girl? Find things in green. Tan, white and cream. Maybe even yellow, though it's my least favorite color next to orange. But eventually, I realized how adorable my tiny daughter will be in her little pink nighties and tiny pink hats and itty bitty pink socks.

I embraced the pink. After all, my daughter is going to be ADORABLE! Like mother, like daughter.

I even bought myself a pink watch. With kitties on it.

Ain't it cute?

Too Shmoopy

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Thu, 8 May 08 11:05:00 UT

I'm warning readers now, this is gonna be a super-duper shmoopy shmaltzy mushy gushy blog entry.

Today is my 4th wedding anniversary. And when Peat woke up this morning and sleepily kissed me and wished me happy anniversary, I almost cried from joy.

We had an awesome wedding filled with awesome things like sword canes and wedding pie and '80s music. I've never had more fun at a wedding - or any other function - than I did at my own. I spent the entire night on the dance floor (which is probably rude, considering I didn't go around to any of the tables). I was so excited I couldn't eat anything, even though we had more food than we knew what to do with, including a Viennese Room with pastries and an ice cream bar. I'd never been happier in my life than I was on that day. And yet now that Peat's book is coming out and our baby is on the way, I'm learning new levels of happiness.

The back of the UK galley calls Peat "a rising star in epic fantasy" and mentions that "a major online campaign will establish [him] as the next great fantasy brand". Peat's gonna be a brand!! How crazy is that? How proud am I? I can't wait until the actual books are in hand! After many years of hard work, locking himself in the library until all hours of the night, going to conventions, meeting with people, dealing with millions of edits and criticism, and more versions of the book than I can count, all is coming to fruition. It's just amazing.

Oh, yeah, and we're having a kid, too. Talk about crazy! Every time she kicks, I smile a little and think to myself how awesome it'll be to see her wrapped in her daddy's arms. I can only pray she gets his teeth, as I've had to have surgery to correct mine. (We've both had surgery on our noses, but mine was for purely aesthetic reasons, so I'm kind of torn on that issue.)

Anyway, my point in all of this is that it's been an amazing 4 years, and I hope there are at least 40 more to come!

In Bloom

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Wed, 23 Apr 08 18:43:00 UT

Spring is here!

I've been waiting since November, and it's finally here! Hooray!

I hate winter. I hate being cold, bundling up in multiple layers, wearing hats, and having my snot freeze inside my nose. Granted, this past winter was mild as far as general winters go, but it was still grey and cold and unpleasant.

But now spring has sprung, and buds are popping and things are blooming -- including me!

Becoming All Too Real

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Sun, 6 Apr 08 18:47:00 UT

I'm getting big. I hit the 6-month mark two weeks ago, and this whole pregnancy thing is becoming all too real. It's getting harder and harder to put on my socks and shoes, or shave my legs, or bend over to retreive something I've dropped, or lift the cat (the one that allows us to lift her, anyway).

See belly below:

Also, the kid is kicking me ALL THE TIME. Or, if not actually kicking, punching, or elbowing, then just rolling around. There's definitely another life form living in my abdomen, and it's the weirdest feeling in the whole wide world. It's almost like muscle spasms, but you can see portions of my stomach being pushed outward. Like in Spaceballs . (Okay, maybe not EXACTLY like that, but you get the idea.)

Also becoming very real is my husband's writing career: The UK is publishing his book in just a few months! He's already got a preliminary book jacket, and Advanced Reading Copies, or ARCs (or galleys, as they are sometimes called) will be on their way very soon! He's already listed on the Amazon UK site!

Unfortunately, the book won't be coming out in the US until early next year, but by then he will be a huge hit across the pond! He's actually traveling to London and Paris and maybe elsewhere later this summer for signings and interviews and stuff. It sucks that the baby and I won't be able to go with him (I'm due to pop mid-July), but I'm sure there will be many more trips in the future. And by then, the kid will already have developed a love of Nutella, Hob Nobs, and Lion bars - just like her mom!

Jews for Easter

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Fri, 21 Mar 08 13:29:00 UT

My sister-in-law calls me the worst Jew ever: I like shrimp, pork, cheeseburgers, and goyish holidays like Christmas and Easter. Okay, Christmas is a gimmee - how can you NOT like Christmas? Especially with the retail world trying to secularize it so badly. It's become just a nice day where you get presents and eat and see your family and friends and their decorated houses.

But Easter? Most of my Jewish friends don't get that. You know, with the whole "resurrection of the messiah" thing going on that day. But when I was a kid, I didn't really think about all that. I went to my step-grandparents' house and hunted for painted eggs and ate chocolate bunnies. My step-brother and I got dressed up and spent the day with our family. It was nice, we got candy, and the weather was usually good. I have lovely memories of that. And yes, my entire family is Jewish.

Maybe some Christians would take offense at all this, but that's not how I mean it. I respect their beliefs, even if I don't hold to them, and I certainly don't mean to denegrate their holy days by trivializing them into presents and candy. But I think that the real importance of holidays is spending them with your loved ones, and that's what my family did - even the holidays we didn't actually "follow".

Now I'm married to an ex-Catholic, and we spend Easter and Christmas with his side of the family. My parents are a little bummed, but they understand: the ones who actually believe in these holidays get dibs, just like they get dibs on Passover and Yom Kippur. My mother-in-law gives everyone Easter baskets filled with candy and goodies, and we all sit down to a nice big dinner. And I'm making new memories of family holidays that I'll be able to share with my own child.

It's the Circle of Holiday Life. With chocolate. :)

Hail Cobra

bluefeatherdani@aol.com — Mon, 10 Mar 08 16:30:00 UT

I hate beaurocracies. I hate red tape. I hate customer service reps. And I hate when they all come together to fuck me over.

When I was laid off (before Christmas), I was given the chance to sign up for COBRA to continue my health insurance. An important thing in general, but especially when you're pregnant and your husband has chronic nerve pain. I sent in my form like a good little girl, and waiting to receive my confirmation and billing statement in the mail.

For some reason (most likely their error, but they are blaming me, which is ridiculous because Peat checked my form before I sent it), they said I signed up for Dental instead of Medical. Who wants just Dental?? "Oh, yeah, I need to get my teeth cleaned 8 times a year, but screw the rest of my general health." Whatever, to each his own.

So I called them. Nothing was fixed. I called again. Nothing was fixed. I faxed them. Nothing was fixed. I called and faxed, called and faxed, called and faxed. From January 19 until today, I have been fighting with them. I have sent a total of 5 faxes and spoken to 4 customer service reps, some of them more than once.

[One guy WENT TO LUNCH WHILE I WAS ON HOLD. I will wait to complain about that guy once this is all over. I have his name and extension, and I will have his job. (But not until I'm insured again. God forbid he catches wind of my complaint and does something to my file.)]

Peat had to get involved on Friday because I was out. He, too, spoke to a customer service rep and sent a fax.

I called today to confirm they received this last fax, and the customer service rep said they had fixed the problem - I am receiving Dental as originally noted. WHAT?!?!? I finally FREAKED THE FUCK OUT ON THE PHONE and spoke to a supervisor.

The supervisor said it should all be fixed tomorrow.

I hope that's true. But I am not holding my breath. I don't want to pass out and need a doctor - I'm not insured!