Day: December 16, 2007

Choosing what to wear

By / December 16, 2007 / 3 Comments

This morning Kiki asked me to help her choose which coat to wear to church. In one hand she held her beautiful ankle-length cloak. In the other hand she held a nice corduroy jacket. I knew which one I would prefer her to wear. The jacket was much more appropriate to a church service. I also knew that I did not want to teach her to be a conformist dresser merely for the sake of fitting in. We had some time, so I took the chance to talk through with her the various implications of her choices in how to dress. The conversation went something like this:

Every social situation has rules about what is appropriate to wear. A swimsuit is perfect for the pool, but considered strange at school. There are reasons for the rules. Some of the reasons are about utility. (Baggy clothes drag in the water and make swimming difficult.) Some of the rules are about social conventions, mutually agreed upon norms for what is appropriate and fashionable.

The human brain is set up to categorize and notice things that do not fit the pattern or social norm. When we choose to break the social norm of dressing for a particular situation, we draw attention. The people around us must now decide why we broke the rules and how they feel about it. some of the reactions will be positive and some will be negative. The strength of the reactions will depend upon how far outside the norm we are. The other people also have to adjust their predictions of our behavior based upon how we broke the rules of dressing. We already obviously broke one set of social norms, they now have to decide what other social norms we might consider irrelevant. If they don’t have a referent for our pattern of dressing, then they become nervous or anxious. This is why costumed convention attendees get such a variety of reactions from the non-attendees around them.

After the discussion was over, I looked at Kiki and told her that she is free to break social norms in how she chooses to dress, but she should do so with an awareness of how it affects others around her. I also mentioned that one reason we dress nicely for church is to show respect to God. Kiki decided not to wear the cloak, which would have really stood out. Instead she wore her mushroom earrings ala the Nintendo Mario games, which are still very non-standard for teenage girls at church. I was pleased with her balance of individuality and conformity, but had she chosen to wear the cloak to church, I would have let her. After all, I let Gleek go to church with two bird Christmas ornaments perched on top of her head and that looked way stranger than a cloak would have done.

Adapting to babies

By / December 16, 2007 / 2 Comments

A couple of days ago I had a phone conversation with a friend who is still working to adapt after having her first baby. The conversation started me thinking about my experiences making the same sort of adjustment. I did not keep a live journal back then, so I can’t look it up. I can just do my best to assemble the fragments of memory floating in my head.

When I had my first baby I was at a transitional point in my life. I was 22 years old and just finishing college. Up until that point I had spent the majority of my life as a student. I was finally ready to shed school and do something else. Babycare slid right into the vacuum left behind by schoolwork and classes. I was emotionally ready to dive into a completely new endeavor. And dive I did. I immersed myself into motherhood. I remember feeling as if I’d finally gotten to the best part of my life. It was hard, but so joyful that I did not mind. I spent hours holding my baby and documenting every small step of her growth. My experience with the next three babies was much different. I kept expecting to find that joyful glow, but it was not as easy to find. My life was not as primed for transition as it was with the first baby. I had acquired things that I had to sacrifice to tend to the needs of the new infant. The joy was there, but not constant.

I’ve often heard people say that after the third child, one more hardly makes an impact. That was not true for me. Adjusting to four kids was by far the hardest. I think it was because I was really able to see what I was giving up to bring the child into the world and nurture him. I had begun doing the business accounting. I watched the baby and the accounting compete for my limited attention and energy. I watched my parenting of the other kids slide into survival mode as I struggled to keep everything above water. It was all made harder because Howard was so much less available to help than he had been for the other babies. His Novell job was siphoning off about 60 hours per week with an even larger percentage of his energy and enthusiasm. Schlock Mercenary demanded another 20-30 hours per week. I honestly do not comprehend how we all carried the load that we did. It was a long, hard pregnancy and a long, hard slog for the first months of Patches life as I attempted to establish a new equilibrium.

I remember people coming to visit me with my new baby. They would coo over the baby and talk to me. They all expected me to have that new-baby glow. I remembered having that new-baby glow with Kiki and wondered what was wrong with me that I did not feel that way. There were definitely joyful times, but they were interspersed with times when I could see clearly the cost in time and energy that was not spent on other important things. I remember feeling guilty that Patches did not get the same unadulterated love and adoration that Kiki received at the same age. I worried that my stress and tears would somehow be communicated to him and that he would be hurt by it. I worried that I would never be able to bond properly with him.

It did not turn out that way. I gave him what I had available at the time. Some days I gave him joy and adoration. Other days he merely got carried while I tended to other needs. It did not hurt him. Nor did it hurt him for me to hand him off to someone else for awhile so that I could refill my reservoirs of energy. As I recovered, and as he got older, I had more and more to give. There was more energy for joy and laughter. I slowly realized that love for a child does not have to start with a new-baby glow. Lasting love for a child is like love for anyone. It is built moment by moment, service by service. For the first six weeks it is all built by the mother (or father. Dads build relationships too.) From the moment the baby first smiles, that changes. Suddenly the relationship becomes a mutual construction.

Looking back, I can see the hard times, the struggles, the adjustments. I’m not eager to go back and do them again, but I am very glad to have them in my store of experience. If nothing else I can talk to my friend on the phone and understand what she is going through. Sometimes I can even find words that help.