On PDX

I've had a request to write a bit about Portland, so here are a bunch of impressions in no particular order. First I should say that we don't have a car, and my schedule revolves, except when our nanny is on duty, around M's naps. This leaves me basically a two hour window to get out and do things. Even when Katie is here, I haven't been very good about pumping breast milk (most boring activity ever), so I can't stray too far in case Moses wants milk! All of this is to say that I basically inhabit the half a mile or so radius in SE Portland in which it is possible to walk without being gone for more than about an hour. The few times I've ventured beyond this little world, I've realized how little of this city I really know. It's also made me realize what a different impression of geography and time drivers have. Public transportation here is excellent (buses and trolley cars) and I use it frequently, but the wait times make me miss the New York City subway more than I ever imagined I would. But on to my impressions! Portland seems to have more odd bumper stickers than anyplace I've been. A sampling: "Rochester: it's an acquired taste" (I never even saw that one in New York); "My other car is a chicken wing;" and "I love Mormon Pussy" (for real folks - saw that one on a pickup truck parked near our house). One of my favorite things to do is to walk to the rose gardens in Ladd's Addition, a quirky little neighborhood just south of mine that was actually built by my Putney School friend Mike Ladd's great great grandpa. Hmmm, what else? The weather is actually quite beautiful, and October was especially so. It's a subtle kind of climate that is quite fascinating to me coming from the very in-your-face kind of weather that typifies the Northeast coast. The most beautiful days are when it moves from pale grey and misty to breaks of blue sky and sun, all the while staying in between, say, 45 and 60 degrees. It's mild. And the autumn foliage here definitely rivals that of New England. We've had some strings of rainy days, which aren't my favorite, but I'll take a week of rain in Portland over an hour of 100 degree heat and humidity in New York City anytime! I look forward to exploring more of Portland, and to getting out to the Oregon coast and to the much-mentioned gorge, which everyone says is a must-see. As for more immediate adventures, tomorrow, if all goes well with coordinating nap schedules, Moses and I are going to the Japanese garden with Moses's neighborhood pal George (who is three days older) and his mom Jessica. So look for a report tomorrow, or soon, on that! And stay tuned for a post from guest blogger Daddy coming this weekend!

Yogurt Container Joy

My apologies for the lapse in posting. The Daily MoMo really *is* meant to be daily, though given the realities of life that's probably ambitious. I'm also a perfectionist about writing, which is a deterrent since I rarely have more than a few minutes at a time to post. But as with many things I'd like to take my sweet time and be meticulous with, I just can't do it anymore. So I'm going to prioritize posting over perfection and see what happens! In this post I wanted to write about how babies at Moses's age really prefer ordinary household objects to toys. I read this the other night in a baby book I have, and have observed it to be completely true. What excites Moses -- he's eight months old now -- is plastic containers, cell phones, cups, mugs, tubes of baby cream, bathtub fixtures, the plastic rain cover on his stroller, and other like objects. As an example, the bathtub in the house we're renting in Portland has one of those European-style shower fixtures where you can sit down in the tub and take a shower. It's very shiny, and the shower head, which looks like a telephone receiver, has a long cord that coils up around a metal "hook." (These things are hard to describe!) Anyway, when Moses has his evening bath, he can hardly wait to stand in the tub in front of what his Daddy calls the "controls" and manipulate them in various ways, which mostly means pulling the shower head off its holder. Josh thinks Moses can see his own reflection in the fixtures, and that that's why he's so fascinated with them. Who knows. He looks like a tiny captain navigating an old-fashioned ship at sea.

Hello, Momo

This is a blog about life with my beautiful and precious seven-month-old son, Moses Maxwell. In one of my favorite pics of him here, he's about three-and-a-half months old. I've been wanting to write regularly about Moses and about being a new parent for some time now, and today's challenges in particular finally inspired me to begin. Parenting can be as difficult and confusing as it is joyful and rewarding. Writing this blog is a way of recording and sharing the happiness and bliss, and also grounding myself inside what sometimes feels like an unfamiliar labyrinth. Today was one of our more difficult days together so far. Lately the big challenge has been napping and sleep in general. I'm almost too tired right now to say much about it, but there is a lot to say. Napping is an entire world unto itself. Getting a baby to nap can be a full-time job. The mechanics of baby sleep are elusive. When it goes well, it feels like an elegant work of art. But just when you think you've got it down, it falls completely apart--or so it seems. The frustrating thing is that it's frequently, at least in my experience, a mystery why it sometimes goes so well and sometimes goes horribly. Today wasn't a mystery, though. Today's nap destroyer was a big poop. Okay, so that happens sometimes: baby takes a big poop fifteen minutes or so after you put him down---just as he's fallen asleep and you've quietly tiptoed out of his room to the kitchen to sit down, take a deep breath, and enjoy your morning tea or whatever. The problem is, it's not as simple as just changing the diaper and baby goes right back to sleep. Getting a baby to sleep is like catching a wave, and if you are just slightly too early or too late, you miss the ride (this is one of the ideas that made a lot of sense to me from the well-known, among parents at least, book by Weissbluth, "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child"). A poop, not to mention a poop diaper change, is just enough to throw baby off the napping wave completely, which means no nap and baby gets up and goes rather crankily about the day until the next naptime occurs, two or more hours later. But then what happens is a cycle of over-tiredness that makes it even harder for baby to nap the next time the sleep wave hits. This is the no-nap spiral that was today. But now Moses is sleeping soundly in his bed and tomorrow is another day on which hopefully the nap gods will shine.