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You've got questions, she's got answers. Be among the first to read Elise Mac Adam's new etiquette guide.
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What's This? The Mystery of Colic Unveiled?
I have had a couple of conversations about colic recently, and I will say here and now that I even mention the word with fear in my heart, because I am terrified, terrified of it.
People tend to talk about colic as if it were one of those Mysteries of the Body -- like how amniotic fluid actually works and why we have organs we don't really need. Colic exists. It makes us miserable. It eventually abates, leaving the family it visited a wreck.
Anyway, there is a possibility, according to Slate that colic (and this sort of resembles a popular-cause-of-ulcers rumor) is caused by a bacterial infection.
Cold comfort or legitimate help? I would love to hear because I've heard enough horror stories to get me nervous. But then, I'm a little vulnerable to kid-based horror stories right now.
posted by Elise at 2:00 PM
2 Comments
Another Flicker of Interest
Elle magazine this month (and when I say this month, I mean February) has a piece by the novelist Dani Shapiro (whose work I have never read) about embracing what I have always assumed was one of the most extreme kinds of reproductive assistance -- certainly it is an enormous financial commitment, but is also requires tremendous psychological fortitude -- using an egg donor and surrogate (two different people).
As far as I can tell, this piece isn't available online, but it raises a fascinating set of issues. In this moment it is so common to know people who have used every sort of reproductive assistance, it is somewhat easy to overlook how difficult the emotional wrestling behind each choice can be.
posted by Elise at 8:11 AM
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Breaking the News
So, people often ask me, as if I knew what I was doing, if I have discussed the impending sibling with Felix. Not really. Not so much. There was an amusing moment during dinner once when I floated the topic, but Felix blinked and said "Baby? Eat? EAT BABY!"
At that point the conversation was getting too interesting and there was no point in continuing in the original vein.
Felix won't be too much more than 26 months old when the presumed sibling shows, and his current ability to anticipate anything doesn't appear to extend much more than 24 hours (in that he can remember if you promised him dumplings for lunch). So are there game plans or does one just sort of slip the new kid into the house and hope to work around things more or less the way one did with introducing the first kid to the terrier?
I'm not being cavalier. I just want to be practical and effective.
posted by Elise at 8:38 AM
67 Comments
I Can't Be There, But I Can Recommend It
If you're looking for something novel to do this weekend and you're in Manhattan, allow me, please, to introduce you to Decasia, which is a remarkable movie made out of decaying found footage. This weekend it will be accompanied by 55 musicians at the always attractive Angel Orensanz Center in a part of town that has become known for its spread of tasty restaurants.
Be warned: this is a non-narrative, experimental deal but it really is terrific to see and won't provoke arguments like the kind we've been hearing since 8:30 yesterday morning about how Dreamgirls got snubbed. (I haven't seen it, so I couldn't say. Well, I could, but not with any authority.
Of course, "Decasia" is a good word to describe life around here given how the least breakable things (front door lock) seem to be giving up the ghost.
posted by Elise at 10:11 AM
0 Comments
Whither Reason?
I've gotten some mileage around here out of the fact that my kid rejects hats and gloves, mittens (with and without thumbs) and those cozy sleeping bag things you put on strollers. In general, I'm happy with letting him find his own way to be comfortable.
In general.
But this weekend was really quite cold in New York City with a nasty wind, and I still had a kid who refused foul weather accessories. I have tried standing around on the street jamming mittens on Felix's hands, but he just screams and pulls the things off and we've been made all the colder for standing around arguing. I did try a passive technique in which I left the mittens (on a string) dangling out of the arms of his jacket and occasionally, when he's sick of hearing me tell him about the plans for the day or describe what I'm working on, he'll slip one on experimentally.
But he wouldn't do this if he knew I wanted him to.
I've been trying the plastic wrap around the stroller lately, but it doesn't entirely quell the screaming, even if he is practically basting in his own juices.
Even taxis don't really solve the problem. This week he pulled off both shoes and socks shouting "No socks on!" over and over until we got home. No, on this occasion he didn't seem chilly. Why I couldn't say.
So my questions are:
When will he figure out that wearing some gear will work to his advantage? Or is there some specific action I should take?
Any thoughts on hand warming techniques?
and
Have you read any good books lately? I'm getting restless.
posted by Elise at 7:39 PM
12 Comments
No, Really, Give it to Me Straight
I'm pretty good about horror stories, which is why I got to hear every scare story about pregnancy, childbirth and childhood that every friend, and some people who aren't friends cared to report. I even have a couple of my own. It just never occurred to me to stop my ears, claiming to be a delicate flower who could be tainted by the knowledge that something horrible could happen.
With or without children there's always ample chance of that.
But there is something odd about being noticeably pregnant with a toddler lurking that makes people so gleeful about your impending misery. If they were novel or amusing, I'd write down all the stories about how the second child is inevitably a Holy Terror or how the delicate balance of the universe was ruined by the arrival of the youngest. Someone I ran into who has two at the delicate ages of going-on-three and soon-to-be-five commented: "If they were both like the second one, I would find a way to work 24 hours a day and never ever go home."
I see there's even a new horror movie seeking distribution and accolades at this year's Sundance Film Festival about a New York City family thrown into terror after the arrival of a second child (from the director of Hell House).
And here I was thinking I wasn't doing anything particularly unusual when it is really Rosemary's Baby redux.
I guess I'll just have to start a stash of holy water.
posted by Elise at 3:45 AM
0 Comments
Skeletons Pour Forth From Closets
It is always remarkable when a notable person suddenly turns out to be more notable because of revelations about his or her really peculiar family history. Consider Jack Nicholson, for example, who was raised by his grandparents who misrepresented his mother (with whom he also lived) as his sister. A reporter let him in on the truth of his birth, which suggests that there are more pitfalls to fame than one can easily imagine.
An article in today's Guardian offers another, slightly happier, story. Apparently the British novelist Ian McEwan was rather recently united with a brother he did not know he had. His older brother, conceived when his mother had an affair with the man who eventually became his father (she was married to someone else), was a month old when McEwan's mother gave him away at a railway station. It is unimaginable to me, but the article shows both men to be quite free of rancor.
My husband always rolls his eyes when I try to describe the plots of 19th century novels. He finds them much too implausible to maintain his attention. But I have to say, "handed off to a childless couple on a train platform" is not so unusual in the England of Wilkie Collins.
posted by Elise at 11:13 AM
2 Comments
Crossover
Daniel Handler's long piece in the New York Times book review about etiquette books for children did not escape my eagle eye.
I just wish he had written one instead of having to slog through the murk that most of the other ones seemed to produce. It is a difficult prospect, the manners for kids question, but there have been people taking stabs at it for centuries, you'd think they'd improve, not become more calcified.
And it isn't as if everyone's becoming more polite in the 21st Century.
posted by Elise at 8:16 AM
2 Comments
When There Is No Answer
My pregnancy has become obvious- just the other day I was offered a seat on the subway. (This is one of those pregnancy milestones that is reasonable and even gives one faith in people, but seems kind of grim at the time-- as in "oh, yes, I suppose I am quite large.") My jacket is just starting to beg for mercy, though I'm not sure what I'll do for the rest of the winter without it. I'm not one of those women who is always warm when she's knocked up. And a curious part of being noticeably pregnant is that one is open to all sorts of conversations that are difficult to have lightly.
The popular question of this moment: "Have you come up with any names?"
This is the pitfall question, always. My policy with Felix and with this one is never to reveal anything. No good can come of it. No matter what you say, people will try to change your mind because it is human nature to be dissatisfied and opinionated.
Once the whole thing is a done deal, people can only complain behind your back, which they'll do anyway- and don't tell me you haven't cringed at some friend's choice of name or, Hell, even winced at the visage of some friend's newborn. Some of them are kind of funny looking.
My strategy when people ask about names is to embrace my own curiosity. I always say: "Well, do you have names that you like?"
The responses one gets can be strange. One friend recently got a bit giddy since she apparently has been pleased that a few of her suggestions were picked recently (and, in fact, she had something to do with the discovery of Felix's name).
The vet (the terrier and I were with him for a cough) looked a bit stricken: "I can't get involved with that sort of debate."
And then there are the cautionary tales:
"It took my brother two months to come up with his kid's name."
"Don't pick anything too popular."
"Maybe avoid doing something too weird."
But one friend truly understood the problem: "Naming the second is problematic since you ostensibly picked the best name you could think of for the first. It is hard not to think of the next name as something rather second. Unless you're having a girl, of course."
Well, all those name lists I mentioned months ago are calling to me.
And of course I'll hear any suggestions, though I might not take them.
posted by Elise at 7:45 PM
0 Comments
I Want to Believe
I know I just got finished describing my preference for science, diagnostic tests (as opposed to screenings) and a general lack of faith in the mystical when it comes to my body or my life in general.
So it surprised me that I spoke to a psychic at a birthday party the other night and found the experience rather comforting. These are uncertain times when sleep is difficult not only because of early morning frets about things like work and childcare, dog care, and questions of the future but things are starting to get uncomfortable because I'm sharing my body with someone else who is clearly disappointed with my body's interior design.
It wasn't a real psychic reading and it didn't take three minutes, and I know the Mystic Lady had been instructed by our hostess not to say anything that would really bum people out in her predictions ("This is a birthday party! No one goes home miserable!"), but, but, but- while I can't say I fell for it entirely, I was pleased and rather comforted by it.
My husband, who has an interest in how psychic types do what they do, happily pointed out all of the ways I must have given myself away in this encounter, but today I don't care. I’m willing to suspend my disbelief.
How nice to hear her prognostications about my work, how appealing- the notion that the things that are so frightening could turn out well.
And what's wonderful about the vagueness of the three-minute fortune is that it is so very flexible. I was almost ruffled when this woman said she saw three children in my life (which is surely more than I can handle)... and then I realized she has to have been talking about the terrier.
posted by Elise at 5:44 AM
1 Comments
Test Test Testing
I am not a fan of the unknown. I don't tend to savor surprises and fret easily about impending mysteries. Everyone thought I was a bit odd for embracing the most aggressive prenatal testing when I was pregnant with Felix and I got it again this time around, although I should say that in neither case was I really "out" about being knocked up until long after I had already done my invasive testing and heard the results. I never had time for screenings because percentages and ratios don't comfort me. I want all the facts not probabilities. It was CVS testing all the way for me. I know more about my kid and the one I'm currently working on than my parents know about me... genetically speaking.
Most people I know are not this wild about testing. They are happy with being told that things look good and don't press for more. I wish I were more like this.
The New York Times revealed that in some ways people may be shifting a bit in my direction. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists is now suggesting that all women should be at least offered the option to have their unborn children screened for Down Syndrome. This shift is away from the standard line that only women 35 and over have to consider this seriously.
Now, screening doesn't do it for me, but for many, I think the recommendation should be reassuring. It gives them the power to assuage fears and a way to negotiate them, whcih is something I find is one of the most insidious aspects of being knocked up. There's always something mysterious going on, and unless one is psychic, it is hard to rest easy about the sneaky secret things happening inside one's body.
So I'm in favor of making testing, or at least screening available to more people. In my case it is a comfort.
LESS of a comfort, however, is the incredible speed with which I have suddenly become quite large. I think this happened last time, too, but appear to have amnesia. One goes into being pregnant thinking everything will happen gradually and then one day you wake up quite a lot larger, with a lot of heartburn.
posted by Elise at 7:54 PM
0 Comments
What Family Doesn't Have Its Ups and Its Downs?
So that's a quote from The Lion in Winter (pronounced by Katherine Hepburn as Eleanor of Aquitaine), but I was reminded of it when I saw the latest picture from Zhang Yimou, The Curse of the Golden Flower-- a story of yet another royal family gnawing itself to pieces over a holiday.
It's gorgeous and has astonishing performances by my long-time crush Chow Yun-Fat and Gong Li but I mention it here because of it's astonishing treatment of family. set almost exclusively within the perfect walls of the Forbidden City, all the royal family can do is develop incestuous connections, plot, poison and embroider, all the while each person feels wretched for the ways he or she has been wronged by everyone else.
See it, see it and be pleasantly surprised by the splendour and by the absurd single-mindedness of family members when they're in the thick of adoring and despising each other.
posted by Elise at 9:09 AM
0 Comments
More Certain than Death & Taxes, More Persistant Than Bedbugs
... is the American Girl Doll catalogue. What does it take to get off the mailing list? Repeated phone calls, pleas for the environment, invocation of depressed forests, protests that one only ordered something as a present once do nothing.
And every time one calls, the people on the line are so very very nice and understanding. It is as if they have taught themselves to speak as if all customers were toddlers who can't possibly know that there is no such thing as an unwanted, useless, despised (even) catalogue.
posted by Elise at 9:19 AM
2 Comments
Small Ambition
In the New York Times today, A.O. Scott, one of the resident film critics, has a piece about taking children to the movies. He throws out the suggestion that it is unnecessary to necessarily pursue the kiddie picture just because the child is a child. My parents did this with me, and I think it not only made them happier for not having to sit through shrill irritating fare, it pleased me to be part of something that interested them.
It is much too early to pack Felix off to any sort of picture, but I do appreciate that someone is writing about how "family movies" don't have to be pandering treacly message-filled junk.
Not to reveal my aesthetic sympathies too much.
posted by Elise at 4:44 AM
1 Comments
I Don't Have a Car...
But reading this piece about the latest Consumer Reports tests on infant carseats makes me sweat. How is it possible that almost none of the things on the market work well? Only two infant carseats passed the tests (the Graco SnugRide with EPS and the spectacularly named Baby Trend Flex-Loc). If you're in the market, it might be worth perusing the latest Consumer Reports article.
posted by Elise at 6:42 PM
1 Comments
No Mention of That Ring on a String Business
How apropos.
The New York Times today in its Health section has published one of their "Claim" articles about pregnancy and predicting the sex based on how the mother is carrying. I never held much truck with this and it seems now (gauging from both pregnancies) that I actually don't carry in a way that lends itself to interpretation. There is plenty of insight offered for babies that are "high" or "low" or "stick straight out" or are "wide" but I've never been offered a gender interpretation for "enormous wall of child."
Interesting, though, are the findings that opinions based on the way women are carrying are completely random, while predictions that women have based on their dreams are more accurate.
Sourpuss that I am, I rely on science for my information, since I wouldn't study my dreams to figure out what shoes to wear.
posted by Elise at 11:02 AM
3 Comments
Happy New Year
It's been grim in Manhattan today, but New Year's Eve was gorgeous, if eerily warm, and afforded all sorts of opportunities for skywriting stunts. The Felix kept insisting this was the moon.
Lingering here, in the last hours of the first of the year feels a bit like standing at the edge of the high dive board. While 2006 was still around, the future was kept at bay, but now with the new year hurtling forward, there are things that can't be denied. I'm confessing here with some difficulty since even writing this down makes everything all too real.
Among the things I haven't really acknowledged is that I'm pregnant again, and to prove the extent of my denial, I'll confess that I'm due in April. I've passed the halfway mark and now I'm just trying not to imagine the springtime because the logistics alone feel like a killer.
Cheers to all.
posted by Elise at 7:35 PM
2 Comments
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