Sturm Haus

thinking

I could become a fan of telecommuting.

Jon and I did a split-parenting thing yesterday. He offered to drop Otto at day care, but upon arrival found out that they had no power. Ergo, no day care. So the boys trooped back home, where Otto watched morning TV and played with his trains while Jon worked.

I spent a frenzied hour or so at the library checking in with staff, shuffling through my desk, organizing things to take home, making copies of reports I needed to finish a project, updating voice mail, checking email -- whew. Now that I think about it, I got a lot done. And then I took myself back to the homestead, where the boy was drowsily digesting lunch and watching the cartoon extras on his Cars DVD. Jon and I did the ships-passing routine, I changed into stay-at-home clothes, and Otto went down for a nap.

And then something magical happened... Otto slept for 3 hours, the darling, during which time I finished all but 10% of a report due tomorrow, did some intensive Google chat with staff, checked and forwarded email to keep everyone updated on the status of our (finally working again) circ system, and made/took a couple of calls. He woke up, I finished up, and we went to have keys cut and get some groceries. I checked in again with staff by phone during the evening on a networking thing, and felt like I'd accomplished something good for the day.

I think that hour of picking/prioritizing projects and deciding what I would do the rest of the day kept me focused. I wasn't distracted by invoices needing to be coded, or the catalogs and new professional journals wanting attention. Calls went straight to voice mail. I left my to-do lists on my desk, taking home the essential to-dos only. As a result I felt extra-productive, and got more done with fewer interruptions than usual.

I certainly couldn't (wouldn't want to) do it every day. But in people-oriented professions, is there value to having regularly scheduled days where you're working off-site and out of easy shouting range? Where you focus on getting admin/maintenance tasks done while still being available to staff? If libraries need to do better reaching beyond their bricks-and-mortar buildings to help people who never come through the door, does it make sense to have staff less tied to the reference desk? I'm not sure, but I'm thinking about it.

Sturm Look-alike Meter

MyHeritage: Look-alike Meter - Roots - Family name origins

newsflash!

Otto likes to "make the water yellow" at school.

He "made the water yellow" last night for Daddo.

Evidently Mama, however, is not the kind of person to inspire "yellow-making," if you know what I mean.

I'm thrilled he's making progress, of course, just wonder why it's so different with me. I think we'll talk about wearing pull-ups to school tomorrow, see if he'd like to wear something more like underpants.

He loves his new classroom and seems to be through the adjustment period. Our last few mornings he's been cheerful and excited about going to school. His teachers like him and say he's a sweet boy. Sometimes a little unfocused, but sweet, and they're enjoying him. What more could I ask?

Well, I could ask for him to love macaroni and cheese, spaghetti, and noodles, but I don't think that's going to happen. And really, I'm sure it's better for him not to love such starchy things. There are days it would make my life a lot easier, though.

In an attempt to re-expand his palate back to its pre-toddler days, I'm starting to send new things in his lunch. Today it was a sandwich made on whole-grain bread with light cream cheese and grated carrots. Sounded/tasted good to me -- we'll see if he eats it. Often he'll eat things there that he refuses at home. Dr. Stone reminded us that it's OK to put dinner in front of him and let him go hungry now and then if he doesn't eat. I'm more OK with the idea of making dinner and including one thing he should eat. It's not entirely his fault, after all, that he's a picky eater. He came by it honestly.

looking ahead

so, this is my week to come

• annual state report due Friday
• committee meeting Tuesday
• Jon traveling
• Subie needing both a tune up and new tires
• two drs appts with Otto on Friday morning (Hopefully we'll get an all-clear from the ear doc on his tubes. The second appointment is with a new specialist recommended by Dr. S to look at a small problem she noted during his exam. At least they're both in the same building.)
• me needing a hair cut
• snow Thursday night

The whole husband-traveling thing has thrown me for a loop this time around. Early last year he took several week-long trips to Mexico, and Otto and I did just fine. We enjoyed each other and did fun stuff. This time around I'm not handling it quite so well and feel like I'm doing well to survive. I get tired more easily, and much as I love my son, I miss having my husband to talk to when I get home in the evening. And don't think I don't know I'm being a big wimp. I know I am! But I guess that's where I'm at right now.

Excuse me while I go find some Whiny Pants to wear (they'll need to be two sizes larger in the waist, which is enough to make me whiny already, alright?).

ladies man

We had Otto's 3-yr checkup today.

He had his blood pressure taken for the first time, at least that I can remember. The nurse put a tiny cuff on his arm and I turned him so he could see her squeeze the bulb. He was fascinated by the process, and when the cuff was fully inflated he whispered "Ouch" once at the pressure. But he sat perfectly still while the nurse finished.

He's doing fine. The doc kind of laughed when she said "well, he's grown two and a half inches in the past year, and gained six and a half pounds. Last year he was on the lean side of the growth chart, this year he's at a higher percentile for weight than for height. But that's ok, he's fine." He's 37.5 inches tall, 32.5 pounds, just right for his age.

We talked about eating habits, how much he's talking, potty training. She didn't see any red flags. During the talking part, Otto was climbing in and out of the infant scale on a cabinet in the corner, pretending to weigh himself and chattering. Then it was time for the physical. He was very patient during the exam, behaving nicely for us until we got to the sans-diaper part. That wasn't so comfortable, and he protested mightily, but the doc is quick and we were soon done.

When she finished, we told her about the new baby (I'm due on her birthday, one of those odd and nice coincidences), and got suggestions for a couple of pediatric dentists for Otto to see for his first exam. Then she whisked out to tell the nurse to get a shot ready. Otto looked at me and said "Dr. S---- is so cute!"

I made sure to tell the nurse before we left (he had to get one shot, which he handled pretty well), and she laughed. The poor doc probably sees so many crabby sick kids, I figured his compliment might be nice to hear.

Tonight as he and I were snuggling before bedtime, I asked if his leg was sore where he'd gotten his shot. He said "yeah," and then he said something about Dr. S. I said "Dr. S---- is pretty nice, isn't she" and he repeated "yeah, she is so cute!"

Dr. S dresses beautifully, never wears a lab coat, and has fun/funky glass frames. She's nearly always cheerful and talks to Otto like a real person. Obviously she makes a good impression. Many of his day care teachers are cute young women in their 20s, so it tickles me that the first person he gets googly-eyed over is his lady-of-a-certain-age doctor. He's got good taste, this boy of mine.

This 3-yr old boy in the house is just slaying me lately.

Last night -- well, all morning, too -- we battled over everything. Eating breakfast. Getting into the car. Changing socks. At the end of the day I forced him into the shower, finally got him settled in bed wearing clean pajamas (plus his socks and shoes, he insisted), and felt like I'd won a major military engagement. But all the tears and trauma and heartache that a toddler can throw at you during such battles doesn't make you feel very heroic.  I was just grateful he was sound asleep by 9 so that I could retreat to my own bed and work through more of David Copperfield.

This morning I decided a small retreat was in order. Instead of forcing him to remove his beloved socks and shoes to change into regular pants, I let him wear his PJ bottoms to school. They're microfleece pjs, warm and fuzzy, and I got him into a sweatshirt and figured, "dressed enough." He ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, put on his coat and got into the car in the best mood possible. Drop off was a breeze -- he ran into the classroom and headed straight for the storytime circle after hugging me goodbye. Pickup was a breeze, too. He was happy to see me, and only slowed down a little in the parking lot because he wanted to kick at the snow. Tonight after dinner we watched some Wiggles while snuggled together on the couch, then came upstairs to get ready for bed, where he let me remove the socks and shoes, put him in clean PJs and socks, and read him stories for bed. Now really -- was letting him wear PJs to school a bad trade-off for having a good day with him? I don't think so.

He seems to have grown leaps and bounds in the past few weeks. Moving into the new classroom is obviously stretching his brain in good ways. He's speaking in longer sentences and expressing more abstract ideas. Today I asked if they had any good books during storytime and he said "Yeah, Storm is Coming." It's the first time he's ever answered me with a specific title or description. I asked "a rain storm or a snow storm?" "Rain," he answered confidently. And we talked about thunder and the like on the way home. Such a little thing, but such a big step forward.

The other thing he did tonight that made me laugh was ask about my nasal spray. I'm not using it anymore, but it's still on my nightstand just in case. It's just saline spray, nothing harmful, so I showed him how you point it up your nose and squeeze. He thought it was the best thing ever, and spent the next half hour spraying his nose to "clean it" and get rid of "boogers." He was ever so proud, even taking a tissue to blow his nose himself. He's had a little runny nose lately, so maybe it felt good -- that or he was reacting to the fact that I couldn't help but laugh at him. He's deathly charming when he's in the mood, doling out smooches and "I love yous" and doing funny things. The threes will do that to you, I guess.

I myself am entering the clumsy, hole-in-the-head part of pregnancy. I still tire easily, and to add to it I've been dropping things right and left and even managed to fall/roll down the last 3 steps of our staircase Saturday morning (no harm done, other than to pride). My short-term memory has gone to heck in a handbasket, and I'll stand in front of someone at work staring at the floor for 30 seconds or more trying to remember a common name or phrase, or finish the thought I'd had not 5 minutes before. I'm also in the odd phase between being sick and not wanting to eat, and being starving/needing to eat more -- and as a result I've been losing some weight. Not that you could tell... I look like I'm smuggling a sack of potatoes under my sweater. Put all that together with an unpredictably crabby toddler and traveling husband, and there are days I'd really like to run away.

But we had a wonderful morning Sunday with Kirstin and Jeff and Leo -- Otto LOVED the Shedd. Leo was really interested in Otto, but Otto, unfortunately, is not the most social creature. He was quite happy to look at fish with Leo, but didn't really talk to him. Still, I think they had a good time together. They both adored the coral reef tanks with their Nemo fish, and were pretty wowed by the dolphin show. Kirstin asked Otto if he was two, and he said quite clearly, "no, I'm three," which thrilled me to no end. He does know how old he is! It was great to see Kirstin again. I miss the social/professional network of grad school, the friendships we built based on shared interests and backgrounds. It was really nice to get that back for a day.

Tomorrow is another busy day, and we'll see what the morning brings... happy Otto, or angry Otto? (when he makes his very serious face he tells us he is being "angry Otto")

Fingers crossed that it's Mr. Happy.

sweet home

the past few days have been... well, maybe it's better not to try to describe them

Wednesday night Jon got a call that he and a team of other people from his company needed to go to a meeting in Indiana on Thursday. So Thursday he and about a half dozen coworkers carpooled south.

But he didn't come home Thursday. Couldn't come home yesterday. They went down for a meeting, and immediately went to work putting out fires and helping their client. He and his colleagues have been living off hotel toiletries and Meijer discount shirts for the past 3 days.

This morning Otto and I dropped Jake at his posh kennel and drove south into Indiana to get Daddo (his car's in a commuter lot near home). Then we drove west to Chicago, because we have animals to see, people! And despite the long day, weird week, general exhaustion, and bitter cold, we're happy to be here. Here there is real pizza. Blues on the radio. Beautiful tall buildings. Expressways filled mostly with cars, not 12-axle scrap-steel trucks and SUVs. I was oddly relaxed driving into the city tonight, and I decided it was because I could SEE.

We're off to hunt up some pizza, then we will crash in our comfy little hotel room and enjoy watching a movie all snuggled together. We might be a little crazy, but at least we're happy that way.

Yesterday was one of those days.

Morning meeting I need to make on-time, slow-moving crabby child, lets-go-NOW crabby mom, bad drop-off at daycare.

As I kissed Otto's forehead goodbye I thought, hmm... does he feel a little warm?

Driving to work I called Jon (this is a habit of mine, a morning report) and said "could you call around 12:30 and see how he's doing?"

Sure enough, he called to check on him and they said "he's running a low fever and he's not having a good day." Dad to the rescue! Jon picked him up early and took him home to relax.

I warned work that I might not be in today, but Otto had a good night. His fever disappeared, and this morning he told me he was feeling better. I asked if he wanted to go to school today and he said Yeah! We had a great drop-off, he took a book with him to share with everyone at storytime (leaving puppy at home!), and went off to play almost before I could say goodbye.

I'm glad he's happy. I wish it were easier to know when he's not feeling well, though, versus being crabby and wanting to stay home in his PJs and play. I think it's time to get Don't You Feel Well, Sam?

We are well.

Otto had a nice birthday -- he took about 3 dozen cookies to school and brought home an empty container, so I think he was a hit with his classmates. We opened presents after dinner Thursday night -- lots of cool shirts! -- and then Saturday evening we took a trip to Cabela's to see "the animals." He likes looking at the stuffed elephant, in particular. Elephants are his favorite animal at the zoo, too.

Yesterday afternoon we went to Target and let him pick out a toy to spend his Christmas gift card on (thanks Great Grandma!). After 90 minutes of deliberation and careful testing in the toy aisle, he bought the first thing he'd picked up: the Thomas the Tank Engine water tower. Now his trains can get drinks when they're thirsty, and he's happy as a clam. He was so patient, and so clearly understood the "you can buy one thing with your money" rule. Of course, he also got a huge new story book, but in our house books aren't considered special purchases. So that's ok.

Friday I had a long visit with my midwife. We talked about my cold, and VBACs, and all sorts of other pregnancy stuff. I left feeling good about things. The discussion reminded me of how exhausted I was during my first trimester with Otto, which goes a long way in explaining why it's taken so long for me to knock this cold, and made me feel better about having been such a lump on the sofa for the past 6 weeks. Trish said it might be another 2 or 3 weeks before I really get my energy back and that it's ok to take things slow. It's nice to have permission to treat yourself more carefully than usual.

Work's been good-busy lately, and while I'd like to say I'm really on top of things at home, that's not the case. I got our bathroom clean yesterday though -- yay! If I could get one of those self-cleaning bathrooms for the house, I'd seriously think about it.

3 years ago

Three years ago tonight I was lying in a hospital bed pretending to sleep with the help of an epidural, spending my eyes-closed time wondering what I was doing wrong, why my child didn't want to take the traditional exit to the world. We'd been in labor for 24 hours and he wasn't responding to the cues that it was time to get the hell out. The epidural and rest period were my last ditch effort to avoid a c-section.

What I really remember, though, about that long weekend in the hospital was being exhausted. I went into labor after dinner Saturday night and didn't sleep at all that night. I hadn't slept well for the weeks before, either. By Sunday night, I was so beyond tired that not even the epidural let me relax enough to get any rest. I pretended to sleep, though, while my mom worried on the sidelines, Jon drowsed in a corner, and the nurse whipped in and out of the room.

Otto was finally delivered by c-section at 6:41 the next morning. I was more than ready. My midwife had to go to the office and there was no one to relieve her. Jon could barely stand up anymore. It's not an experience I really want to repeat. And when I say that, I especially mean the c-section part.

God, when you have a c-section they make you stay in the hospital for DAYS. Again, I didn't sleep. I couldn't. For one, the demerol they gave me wired me tighter than the E-string on my voilin, and I was hallucinating instead of sleeping. For another, those damned hospital people NEVER leave you alone. If it's not the nurse coming to take your blood pressure, check the IV, or look at the baby, it's the food service folks with the next day's menu (I ate a lot of bagels with peanut butter that week), or the survey lady asking how my stay had been (I always said great so she would GO AWAY). I finally got hysterical and made Jon stay overnight with me, poor man, to guard me from intruders so I could at least try to sleep. I have never been so glad to see my own house, my own bed, and my dog in my life. I walked in the door and Jake stood on his hind legs to greet me -- the ultimate expression of concern from an aging Husky with lower back problems. Several hours later, in my own bed and Demerol-free, I finally got a nap.

The other bad part? They took Otto away after delivery. I barely got a glimpse of him as they carried him past on the way to NICU for breathing problems. I have no idea what happened there. I was so drugged I kept trying to fall asleep on the operating table. I was stitched up, cleaned up, shuttled to my room, and waited anxiously to hold him. I didn't know who to ask or what to do, so I just waited. Jon was there, but I have no memory of it. I don't even know how long it took for them to bring Otto in, though it couldn't have been more than a couple of hours. Everything from that morning is a big white blur until I got to unwrap him and see his skinny little bowed legs and count his toes.

Tonight, three years later, I'm spending my evening baking birthday cookies. I asked Otto if he wanted cupcakes for school (chocolate? vanilla? strawberry?) and he turned them all down. Instead he gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up to cookies with M&Ms. If cookie love can be inherited, he got all Jon's cookie genes.

Tomorrow he starts the preschool room full-time, and so far he LOVES it. Jon and I are both so pleased for him, so relieved that he's been granted permission to advance. He will be THREE, an astonishing fact to me, his own mama. He thinks nothing of it, of course, immersed in a world full of games and music and trains and M&M cookies. This is a boy who knows what he wants and likes, and has since the night he refused to be born with the cord wrapped around him twice.

I've been drinking the water

Nicole Kidman is Pregnant (msnbc.com)

Black and Wife Expecting Another Baby (associated press)

Nancy Kerrigan Expecting Baby No. 3 (people.com)

and...  me too!

Yep. The Sturm family is expecting baby #2, scheduled to arrive around Independence Day.

I'm already getting kicked at and my pants are hard to button, but things are going well.

Lately I've been contemplating the special sort of parental insanity that makes you want to do this more than once. Then I look at pictures of baby Otto and remember. Fuzzily. Through a haze of sleep deprivation and hormonal surges. I keep reassuring myself that at least this time around I won't be a complete baby newbie. Won't some of those things come back to me automatically? Like the 5 S's and how to get a baby to latch on? God I hope so.

Otto and Jon went with me to my first appointment, where we heard the heartbeat loud and clear. Otto said excitedly, "it's a train!" He might be disappointed when he finds out it's a baby instead. Or not! The same boy who nixed traditional cupcakes for his birthday class treat and requested chocolate chip cookies instead will make up his own mind.

Jon claims to be terrified that we'll have a girl. He's spent the last 3 years endlessly ribbing a good friend about having a daughter, warning of future wardrobe disasters, threatening to have her date Otto, etc., and knows there will be some serious payback.

He's also spending a suspicious amount of time looking up girls' names in the baby name book.

A nice way to start the new year, yes?

I kind of thought so.

back in the swing of things

Maybe it's the 60 degree weather. Or the fact that I spent all weekend in the house, lying down. Whatever it is, I'm grateful to finally be feeling more like myself.

It's past time. There are things I need to do! Work. Housework. Trip planning (I really, really want to take Otto to see the baby beluga at the Shedd this month). Crafty projects I've been wanting to tackle. Pictures and movies to upload. Bedrooms to paint.

Otto had a good morning today, thank goodness. We started out a little rocky. He's as much a morning person as I am (which is to say, NOT AT ALL), but finally wandered downstairs and ate breakfast and got into the car. At daycare he willingly put Puppy in his bag, shed his coat, and gave me a big hug before settling in to listen to Miss Kim read a story.

I checked in with Miss Kay, the owner, who said he's improved the past month since our meeting. He's talking more and playing more interactively with his classmates. I really don't know what happened, other than I suspect his current teacher backed off a little, and as a result he stopped being sullen and rebellious. For the most part we're ignoring the whole potty training thing, other than offering to take him to the bathroom. We'll see his Doctor this week for his 3-year checkup, and I'm planning to pick her brain for some ideas there. But if he's been a little slow talking and playing, it's reasonable to assume he'll need a little more time to figure this out, too.

OK, back to work... things to do, things to do...

we got snow for new year's!

IMG_1246sunset in michigan,
originally uploaded by dbanman.

How about you? It's pretty snow, all thick and wet so it flocks onto trees and shrubs, making it a regular winter wonderland. But it was freakin' cold today, and I'm looking forward to the big melt this weekend when it's supposed to creep into the 40s.

Tonight I'm lying on the sofa with a warm laptop on my belly, recovering from my evening coughing fit. The cold from hell has pretty much subsided into a bad stuffy nose and a 30-minute spell of coughing in the evening after dinner.

My mom is visiting this week, which has been fun. She pretty much comes to hang out with Otto, who loves it and spends his time saying "c'mere Grandma" and grabbing her hand and leading her off to play with something. He likes her laptop and they can sit and play Sesame Street games forever.

Speaking of the boy, he's had 2 full weeks of being at home and having extra attention from affectionate relatives, and he's all relaxed and happy and cheerful. I'm more relaxed and cheerful too, and not really looking forward to seeing what going back to the regular routine on Monday is going to be like. We shall persevere, though, and I'm sure things will be fine.

Otto turns 3 in a week! Can you believe it? Got to get some (small) party plans going!