You know what's really annoying?...

I can have a great day. A really nice, mellow day with the girl. We didn't do much but play group, but at home, we attacked beds, snuggled pillows, read books, rode in her "car car" around the back yard and even got in the swing once. All sounds misty and Lifetime Channel, right?!?

Well, I'm annoyed by two things that sadly, dictated my current "I need a drink" state. The first is my daughter's obsession with pools. She loves water and swimming as she sees it. We hit a wading pool in play group today. My daughter basically needs a leash. One second not "on" her and she's running toward the pools repeating the word "pool, pool, pool". I drop everything and take off after her. She has a way of always finding the danger in a situation and going for it. I love it about her as a friend, but as a mom, not always so much.

So, other than one instance early on where she either tripped or decided to drink the water and subsequently submerged herself (don't worry, EMT Mom yanked her out and then calmed the following crying from the yank scare), she just wanted to be in the water all the time in Glendale's midday 90+ heat and direct sunlight. Not cool! Then it was the playground. Then the pool. Then approaching elder strangers in powered wheelchairs repeating "car car car." As hard as I try, I want the baby to understand logic, or at least, sit still for maybe 5 minutes. That actually did happen a little later on under a shady tree with the help of baby whisperer Bess Fanning.

Onto more pool drama. So, we live in a house that is surrounded by neighbors with pools. I should add that I've not seen more than one or two actual usages of said pools in over a year. So, baby R is running from one side of the yard to the other yelling "pool, pool, pool". She wants to see them. I will show her them and then I feel badly. I remember being the kid in a neighborhood of pools, wanting to swim in them and not understanding that you needed to be invited to swim. She doesn't get it. Neither did I. It makes me feel sad for her and also annoyed that I'm fighting with my nearly 15 month old whose desperately trying to scale a fence, scream with frustration, or arch her back while thrashing as I take her back into the house.

So, point one, pools. Next up is the brushing of the teeth. Jesus Christ, why did I have to read that dental care is paramount in kids? I mean, seriously, my daughter doesn't sit still before naps or bedtime. She gets cracked out and runs around avoiding anything after the bath. I have to close the door so she doesn't hightail it out of her room. Still, she runs away from me with each thing I try to do--hair combing, PJs, picking out books. 

The toothbrush though is the WORST! I understand that she may not like something invading her space, but I'm not breaking her gums with force. She fights. More back arching and screaming. Tears and aggression. Quickly trying to get off the bed to the floor where more running around can continue. I'm trying to sing her into a calmer state while doing the obligatory brushing and then either hand it over to her,  "Now you brush your teeth," or defer to binky, books and lights out.

Even when you get to the point of walking out of the room, which feels like a reprieve, if she cries and screams as you're doing this, it feels like nails on chalk board. I'm done, lady. I don't have more to give to this crazy behavior. In fact, I kind of need to get out of there before I blow my top.

So those two things really annoy me. I'd love feedback from other moms or dads who've had these scenarios. I get guilted into thinking I'm a shitty mom from all the progressive parenting verbiage out there. I'm doing my best, and I love that girl to the ends of the earth. Maybe that's the most annoying part, that I am trying to do my absolute best and not repeat crap I dealt with growing up and yet I feel like I never get ahead, like my inner annoyance or rage pops up at very inopportune times.

[Ed. Note: Annoyance with pools has been tapered. Toothbrushing, not so much, since the original writing of this post]

In the rush of all that is

It's been a week and I feel it... I've been busy with a bunch of stuff that includes work and relaxing with family, both very much needed. Wherever shall I begin?

Well, I was recently introduced to a friend of my pal/fellow musician Shannon Curtis who is organizing a great project for an app he's building. The basic gist is he puts together a photographer and a musician to inspire a new song based on the images of the other. Let me begin by stating emphatically that I LOVE THIS KIND OF PROJECT! I love it for the spontaneity. I love the collaborative spirit. I love music that stems from imagery. I love the ART of the creation. So often, I personally get in the head space of "Well, let me write a [enter genre or popular artist name here] song." It's a challenge, but when you strip away commercial leanings and get to the heart of a song for art's sake alone, I get goosebumps.

I did a similar project like this a few years back for Esopus Magazine in Spring 2010. That time, each artist had to write a song about a particular visual artist and that was the only criterion. I went directly to my main man, Ernst Kirchner, highlight of the German Expressionist movement of the early 1900s. I always loved his depictions of the Ladies of the Night in turn of the century Berlin. I also write most of my songs with a strong feminist viewpoint, so it seemed like serendipity. You can hear a sample of the tune here.

I was lucky to get a series of photographs that depict a small French riverside town at day break. The shots are all black and white. It casts a sombre vibe and seems both epically romantic and lonesome. I LOVE that dichotomy and I can't wait to develop this song. I've sketched out the basic form and chords. I have ideas for lyrics, melody and harmony. I'm doing little bits each day so that every night, I can listen to where it is and see how I react to it. It's growing slowly, but I can't imagine a song like this inspired by those shots could grow any other way.

On a completely different musical note (pun intended), I learned that one of my older tunes, Fly, appeared in a reality TV show about fashion designer Betsey Johnson. Once again, my worlds overlap. As many of you know, I've worked off and on as a fit model for about 7 years, I honestly can't remember exactly. So, if there was ever a nice coincidence, I'd say that might be it. Plus, the tune is my "house" track, so that is probably appropriate for fashion as well.

Speaking of fashion and fit, it appears I'll be working my annual sub gig for a fellow fit model and Burner who is off to Black Rock Desert for Burning Man in a couple weeks. I met up with this woman a few weeks back and I have to say, I love her enthusiasm for the event and the costumes and the playa identity building. I remember being there myself a few lifetimes ago and I can definitely get steeped in heavy nostalgia for my days as part of the Funkmobile or Church of Funk camp in Fandango Village.

And on the topic of getting away, my fam and I went on our annual trip to a guest ranch near Solvang, CA. My hub and I went last year while R was only 8 weeks old. Needless to say, there was a lot of lump in the ergo carrier that year. One mega highlight was I caught her first ever smile on camera in our room. We were excited to return to the wide open spaces and family-centered working ranch (complete with pool, lakes, golf course and spa) with our little bundle of excitability. She loved the entire trip. She made a beeline to the fenced in pool every day repeating "pool, pool, pool!" Did I mention this girl loves her swimming lessons? She also visited the slides 2-3 times a day and repeatedly squealed with joy on each descent. She got to the point where she'd let go and push herself off the top to the bottom. She ran around in large grassy fields, explored new landscaping, got mauled by her very enthusiastic older cousins and, I think, had a great time. We all had some much-needed together time and unplugged from the hectic city distractions. And don't even get me started on the weather... perfect! I sang some karaoke. The baby rocked some pink cowgirl boots and boogied down to Johnny Cash being covered by the hoedown band. We even got a babysitter so my husband and I could hang out after the baby was down, outside the room. It reminded me what a little time outside the "routine" could do for us all.

Finally, I have to say that R is in a great place right now. She's laughing and funny. She equally performs for attention and snuggles for affection. We've been very close, playing and singing together. I bought her a drum like one she likes from a Mommy and Me class we take, and she just about lost her gourd. She's banging the mallets on this mini tympani one minute, shreiking and climbing on its head the next. I love it when I get it right like that. Then a fellow musician/father friend of mine made a comment on a video message that I need to grow up and stop saying I'm a terrible mother, that in fact, I'm probably a great mother. I like hearing that. I don't know about the growing up part, but I like thinking that I'm doing the best I can and maybe the best is actually pretty damn good.

I am hoping that each post talks a little bit more than just about the "where I've beens" or "what I'm doings" in my life. I am down in writing songs so I think a bit more of my meditative side is going to that end. It will return as much as it always does with time.

The Meaning in Weaning

She'll be 14 months this week. I remember initially hoping to nurse for a half year. And in the first month, I wanted OUT of that deal.

Any mom or lactation consultant will tell you, breastfeeding is HARD! They never tell you it's going to be, and so many women struggle with the process. It's no wonder there are so many formula-fed babies. With all the pain, latching difficulties, over or under supply issues and more, it's no wonder women give up. I almost did on a number of occasions.

But now it's almost 14 months, and she still nurses. I should also point out that R also eats truckloads of turkey, eggs, cheese, bread, grapes, peaches, yogurt, oatmeal, green beans, broccoli, peppers, meatloaf, pasta... pretty much anything she's offered. She now also washes them down with cold, out of the fridge cow's milk. No allergies. No digestion issues. No fighting. She loves it all!

So why then is she not weaned?

Bottom line. I'm lazy. It's kind of easy to just whip it out and let the girl drink. Side note: In California state, mothers are protected by law to breastfeed in public. In a city like Los Angeles, which is very pro-breastfeeding, it seems like there is support all around you. La Leche League meetings abound. You can cruise over to The Pump Station and take free seminars on topics like breastfeeding multiples, new mothers BF support group and a sling workshop that likely demonstrates how to position the baby in said sling to breastfeed discreetly in public.

Of course, as a friend once told me, "You need to reclaim your breasts for you. Until you do, you won't totally be free." Not sure what I'll suddenly be free to do once I don't have a baby attached to one of them at a given moment, but I get the message. So, just to review my uphill climb with the process.

It begins the moment R is born and the doctor places her on my chest. Where I delivered, they have a strong "skin to skin" policy, which is not some subgenre of porno shot in Encino, but rather a philosophy that the newborn is placed directly on the mother's bare chest and remains there for the first hours of life instead of being whisked away to the hospital nursery. It's a bonding experience. In those new moments, they encourage getting the baby to latch and used to the idea of breastfeeding, which you, as the mother, are unlikely to do immediately due to the fact that your milk hasn't come in yet. 

What? Another thing I learned in childbirth classes and books, you have to wait to get your milk. So, you're going through the motions. The baby is maybe getting a bit of colostrum until your become engorged with milk, pained by the fact that your boobs swell up to the size of a booth babe at the Adult Entertainment Expo.

I always thought of breastfeeding as some kind of softly lit, soft-focus edged experience between a doting mother and a docile baby. I didn't quite have that scenario. I honestly can't remember much of the early days (likely because I wasn't sleeping) and then once she learned to move, she's been wiggling, kicking, rolling and doing anything but lying still. So let's see, there's also the difficulty in getting the baby to latch, plugged ducts, leaking boobs, hot and cold compresses, the smell of stale milk on your clothes, products like Lanisoh and Booby Tubes. Not exactly that Lifetime movie special...

For us, we had issues early on with R in that her belly would swell hard as a rock and she had gas that kept her screaming into the night. She also had gastro issues involving blood in diapers that led us to a specialist at Cedars. He suggested that we put her on a hypoallergenic formula to see if the breast milk was causing the issues for her. I didn't want to put her on formula, but I did it for a day and noticed a complete turnaround. The doctor said that was good because it meant that there wasn't a more serious problem with the baby's digestive system. I could switch to formula or go back to breastfeeding and see blood.

I called my husband sobbing on the phone with my 8-week-old saying I didn't want to have her on formula and deny her what I thought would be best for her immune system. He agreed and we went back to BF about 90% of the time, supplementing with the occasional bottle of formula to give her system a break. 

Later, I learned at a La Leche League meeting that gastrointestinal issues like bleeding is pretty common with breastfed babies. Of course, no one in my family had EVER heard of it and so there was a lot of blood updates with family phone calls for the first 6 months of her life.

Next up, breast feeding while teething. I will not go into that. Let's just say, it fucking hurts!

So, I'm staring down 14 months and my rationale is I'm lazy, not good with structure, etc. It's easy to nurse now that R and I have the routine down.  She likes it. But now there's also a little voice in my head saying "Why do you want to force this? Once it's gone, you can't go back!"

Whoa! I never pegged myself as the woman to hear that voice in my head, quietly or loudly. It's like somewhere along the line, I bonded with my baby girl and this was part of the process. I still relentlessly multitask while nursing, like pick dried oatmeal out of the hair behind her ears or scroll through a text on my phone, but the idea that it might suddenly be gone--and that I might actually miss it--was a new revelation that nearly shocked me. 

What do I do with this information? I doubt I'm going to be the type of mom like Game of Throne's Lysa Arryn, wife of the late Lord Jon Arryn, suckling the child until a tween. But I don't know if I'm ready to let go of that connection. I'm the only one who can offer her this and when it's gone, I will be demoted a bit as well. I will be like everyone else. That saddens me. 

I suppose the meaning for me lies in not weaning, right now, at least. I recognize that weaning is the end of a chapter for R and I. I guess, as much as my husband and I joke that the girl's not giving up the boobs anytime soon, that these boobs, or rather, her mother isn't letting go of her either.

Can there be a hereditary gene for ONJ love?

Olivia Newton-John's Greatest Hits, Volume 2

I've had this record since I was 8 when I used to spin it on my tan Fisher Price portable record player. It showed the scratches and the love. That record is 31 years old! It's probably the oldest disc in my collection, as far as ownership is concerned. Somehow I've toted it along over many decades, multiple players and even more homes.

Riley has been grabbing that particular album cover out of my stack for a while now. It depicts Olivia in her cropped bleached, spiky hair look á la Physical video. I remember bringing this album cover to my hairdresser at age 9 or so and saying I wanted that cut. It didn't quite work out that way. See below...

My husband said, "I had the biggest crush on Olivia Newton-John."

To which I replied, "So did I! Everyone loved her then."

"I wonder what ever happened to her..."

"Oh, she's still around. (I left out the part that I follow her on Facebook) But I think with everyone big in the industry, she got overexposed and then it's hard to come back from that." I replied.

I remembered ALL the words and ALL the vocal inflections. I sang them with gusto while dancing with my girl. She was boogie-ing down and smiling with glee the entire time. I promised her when she was older that I would introduce her to the movie Xanadu, which I own on VHS and still keep a video player in my garage to someday re-watch it. (Interesting article on Xanadu obsession here)

It was a fun morning. I got to thinking, can a parent's LOVE of something transfer to his or her child? It's a leap of scientific faith to try and equate eye color or cleft chins to an emotional love for a song like "Hopelessly Devoted to You," or "Xanadu," or even lesser known cuts like "Make a Move on Me." (Check out this AWESOME "Solid Gold" (with Marilyn McCoo) performance, and yes, that was the haircut I wanted!) But I thought it would be interesting to ponder.

I tested the idea further when I found yet another album I'd forgotten I owned. One that I wore out on cassette when I originally had it. 1998's The Smithereens "Green Thoughts."(You can check out the video for "House that We Used to Live In" here)  I was pleasantly surprised to see her throw her arms in the air and rock out to the distorted guitar intro of one of Side One's tunes. I hadn't remembered all those words. But it spoke to me in that nostalgic way that music does. I remember that record was the pre-cursor to grunge, and I was in the transition between 8th grade at my Catholic school to 9th grade in public middle school. I chose to leave the last school and made a deal with my parents at the time to get my Confirmation and then get out. REM's "Green" was the hot record of the year in that 60s throwback style, but I preferred the Smithereens as a garage rock Beatles type of band. They strike me as very midwestern, like a Chicago band, but after a quick Wiki search, I learned they were from New Jersey.

So, Friday's here with a good kick-off soundtrack and I'm steeped in a bit of nostalgia to start the weekend. I'm glad to tap into a bit more past in the blog. I want it to be a place to "get to know ya" of sorts--past, present and look ahead to the future.

NEW: A fun discovery on YouTube. Olivia Newton-John's first interview on Mike Douglas 1979.