Jedi Soccer Moms
Ten years ago, TEN, I saw a Star Wars onesie at Hot Topic with “Future Jedi Master” printed on the front. I bought it immediately. I knew SOMEDAY either I would have a use for it, or one of my friends would.
We are nerds. Of varying degrees and types, but everyone I spend any degree of time with is a nerd. So Star Wars is always a hit, and as it happened, I got to use the onesie for my own baby. It got me thinking though, watching him roll around in his Jedi shirt.
Maybe it’s just the hormones. Maybe it’s paranoia. These days, I swerve between absolute joy, and horror at the possibility of loss of any kind(with bouts of boredom and exhaustion thrown in for good measure).
So, as much as anyone might wish to banish the prequels from existence (and I don’t, I’d keep them if only for the light-sabre battles), I kept thinking about Yoda declaring 9 year old Anakin Skywalker too old for the training.
When DO children start training at the Jedi Temple? 8 and a half? 6? 3? Infancy? I suspect the (fictional) answer is around 4 or 5, much as you might see of young athletes being taken for training in some places. Or, you know, Battle School.
Battle School isn’t a bad parallel. You have this child, who has in all likelihood been remarkable since he or she was a baby. Not to say that people would love their gifted children more than typical children, but a precocious toddler probably has a little extra sparkle and charm.
And then your baby tests too high on the midichlorian scale and your life is just ripped apart. You get those fuzzy bright – too sweet years, and then you don’t see them until they’re vague and peaceful calm as Obi Wan. Does anyone refuse? You leave this beautiful bright four year old to meet his destiny and 20 years later, he’s a stranger who has seen more of the universe than you’re capable of imagining. Maybe all parenting is kind of like that.
But maybe it’s not like that at all. Maybe the four year old isn’t so much adorably brilliant as he is frustratingly advanced. Maybe he constantly pushes against your artificial boundaries, ready to cross them long before you are ready to let him. Maybe all parenting is kind of like that too. But this little child doesn’t just cause trouble in school when he’s bored, he levitates, and talks his teachers into letting him have extra recess. Every day. Maybe if hadn’t been found by the Jedi, he would have been lost on a path of drugs, crime and force lightning.
And maybe you don’t have to just hand him over to the priesthood, maybe that was just unique to Anakin’s circumstances, what with Mom being a slave. I mean, obviously it’s a boarding school, I doubt they have Jedi-letts who commute, but maybe they have parents weekends every couple months. Maybe the little ones put down their training sabres and pack up for a long holiday over Thanksgiving. Maybe they make paper planets with heart stickers and glitter for Mother’s Day.
Then there’s sure to be at least a few families who moved to Coruscant to be near their Jedi tots. In fact some probably even moved to Coruscant just in hopes that their child would be accepted. They probably used special belly-headphones to play special force channeling soundtracks for the fetus. When the baby turned 18 months, they enrolled him in a class that claims to raise midichlorian levels, satisfaction guaranteed.
Do the parents ever hang out watching light-sabre kata practice? Does Dad pick his Jedi up from a match with a younger but more talented boy and scold him for not triple flipping into the opening he saw two and a quarter minutes in, or what about a little force nudge when the kid blinked sweat out of his eyes a minute later? Does Mom observe her daughter meditating and tell her maybe she needs to work a little harder at it since she always seems to need to itch her nose after only a few hours?
Why do I assume the Jedi parents would be overbearing and… awful?
I guess it’s because I know (however it is you can know something about a fictional universe) that there is no room for parents in the world of the Jedi. Parents are distracting, they are attachment, they turn Anakins into Darth Vaders.
If it’s genetics (and Luke says it is) most parents of Jedi must have had some feel for the force as well. Probably they wouldn’t have turned into Toddlers & Tiaras type psychos, they would have been sensitive, aware of nuances, feeling the subtle needs of their baby. They would have been there with a hug when the training was too difficult, they would have felt the pain of struggle, of the alienation that must be necessary to finally attain a detached calm. And the hugs might keep the student from struggling through, from learning what needed to be learned.
Was a Jedi ever allowed to be a child? Did they have time for games and giggling and stupid stunts, or was it all concentration and breathing?
The Jedi. The Jedi’s father. The athlete and her parents. Theresa and John Paul and Ender Wiggin, Mr. and Mrs. Madrid. The parent of every real world soldier, alive and slain. They give so much, and we expect it all of them. Was it worth it? What they missed, what they lost?
To be a Jedi?
Crawling Lessons
Ender’s first Christmas was fantastic.
He (like most babies I imagine) was far more interested in the wrapping paper, boxes, and the excitement around him than in his gifts.
It was a task to keep him from eating the wrapping paper.
He loves people though, so I think having a chance to visit family was the best part.
His cousins, aunt and grandma all loved having him there and he ate up the attention. Our younger niece helped him unwrap his presents.
Our nieces, especially the older one, tried to teach him to crawl.
Not quite sure… I think he might need some more examples.
Your arms go like this, and your legs go like… what?
He’s still not quite there yet, but he was definitely watching.
Our older niece played Peek-a-boo every chance she got. Ender got so much attention last weekend I think he’s bored with just me and his Dad now.
Wrap Up 2011
Survey from Linda of All & Sundry
1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?
Had a baby. 
2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don’t seem to have written them down, so I’m guessing not. I think I was afraid to share them because I didn’t know if I could make them. Having a baby is a pretty decent excuse, so I don’t feel too terrible. This year, no excuses. I will find time.
Resolution 1. Find time to do something creative at least a few times a week.
Resolution 2. Submit a short story to magazines.
Resolution 3. Re-write chapter 1 of novel.
Resolution 4. Create dummy for picture book, and 2 finished pages. Submit picture book to publishers.
Resolution 5. Create one simple (even if entirely useless) iPad app.
I think I can accomplish more than that, but if I meet those five resolutions, I’ll be happy, because it will be more forward movement than I’ve had in a while.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No one especially close, but several casual friends had babies, a couple more are due in January, and I’ve made friends with a couple women from my birthing class.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes. We also had several friends suffer miscarriage.
5. What countries did you visit?
None, but hoping to get to Canada next year. Not exactly exotic, but hey, we can drive there.
6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
A garden. Workspace. Better sleep.
7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
June 1st, Ender’s birthday.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Finally finishing painting Ender’s bedroom (like TODAY)! Looking forward to having a room to ourselves for the first time in 7 months (7!). We also finally got the studio/office space pained, and should be able to get it at least partially set up in January.
9. What was your biggest failure?
I’m sure I’ve had plenty of small failures, but I don’t feel as downcast about this year as I did last year. I spent half the year pregnant and exhausted, and the other half nursing a new baby (and still exhausted) so I think it was a sort of waiting year and… a just being year if that makes any sense.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Does pregnancy count? Actually the pregnancy (mostly) wasn’t bad, but the actual birth was epic. A good reminder of how skilled biology is at getting us to ignore our rational fear of pain for the purpose of reproduction.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
This is a toss-up between most useful and coolest, so I’m going to go with the one that brings me the most joy: this awesome mobile. I love it almost as much as Ender does, and I think he may recognize the word “fishies” now.
12. Where did most of your money go?
Baby stuff.
13. What did you get really excited about?
Approaching due date, having a newborn, watching him grow.
14. What song will always remind you of 2011?
Mad World. I’ve heard it before, but it keeps coming up on my Pandora station and I sort of re-discovered it.
15. Compared to this time last year, are you:
– happier or sadder? Happier!
– thinner or fatter? Probably still fatter? About 10 lbs over my pre-pregnancy weight.
– richer or poorer? I think about the same.
16. What do you wish you’d done more of?
There is more I could have done this year, but I’m not sure I would change anything about the time I spent if given the chance.
17. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Staying up too late when I know I’m going to be up at 7am- latest.
18. How did you spend Christmas?
Visiting family and watching my nieces try to teach my son to crawl.
19. What was your favorite TV program?
Doctor Who. Doctor Who? DOCTOR WHO!?
20. What were your favorite books of the year?
Well I’m not sure I’d call it enjoyable, but Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, has been a big help. It was nice to finally get to read A Dance with Dragons but I found it kind of frustrating, knowing that the next one could be another five years. But hey, at least he didn’t ax my favorite character like I thought he did!
21. What was your favorite music from this year?
Been totally addicted to Pandora this year.
22. What were your favorite films of the year?
I don’t know that I’ve actually seen a movie this year. My friend Amy tried to get me to go see Harry Potter with her, but at that point I was having to pee every half hour, so paying for a movie ticket just seemed wasteful.
23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 30! I was in Eugene (Oregon), introducing Ender to my parents. It was a surprise.
24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I can’t think of anything.
25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
Maternity. And nursing tops. Online shopping.
26. What kept you sane?
Help from family. Baby sitters. NETFLIX (about all you can do while cluster feeding)
27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.
I think I’ve learned a lot this year… but nothing comes to mind that can be stuffed into a two sentence blurb.
Making Waves
The sail boats turned out really cute. They floated, they were bright, and while I still wished the bases were a bit more opaque, I thought they’d do quite nicely in the wave bottle.
Unfortunately, water sealed they wouldn’t stay upright. I tried a variety of things to keep them balanced, weighting the bottoms with pins and beads, cutting down the sails, but eventually I had to just give up on the sail boats. Shame. I think they’d still be a fun (and easy) craft to do with kids though, as long as you didn’t mind them not lasting.
Ender really enjoyed watching me put the bottle together. Since he’s a little too young to understand presents, I didn’t feel like I was wrecking the surprise.
He REALLY liked the bubbles caused by the oil. I think once we get around to sealing the lid (haven’t had a chance yet) the finished wave bottle will be a hit.
When the boats were in play, I’d planned to fill the whole bottle with water and oil, so it would look as much like ocean and sky as possible. Once I gave up on the boats I realized there was no reason not to leave a top layer of air, allowing another section of floats.
I have no idea why the sequins didn’t sink to the bottom of the water layer. Not a one. In the glitter bottle, they fell down along with the glitter, but having a layer of oil on top seemed to make everything sit a bit lighter in the water (the balls floated significantly higher). I have no idea why this is. I assume there is some physics-y explanation, but maybe it’s just a fluke.
The bottle didn’t turn out at all like I’d envisioned it, but I’m still pretty happy with the final product. Whenever I (or Matt) get around to sealing it, I’ll be sure to post photos of Ender so you can see what he thinks.
Choosing Toys
I’ve always loved toys. I mean, obviously when I was a kid, I loved toys, every kid loves toys, duh. But even when I was young I think I took a certain delight in the concept of the “toy” I loved the design of toys, the thought put behind them, the inventiveness of creative toys. I think I sometimes wanted particular toys for what they represented rather than what I could do with them.
So for me, Christmas shopping for Ender is just as much fun as shopping for myself, if not more so. Long before I was pregnant, I’d already spent countless hours reading about toy design and the best developmental toys (spoiler, if it says “educational” it usually isn’t), and the toys that last longest as playthings with creative interest.
We decided to make Ender some “discovery bottles” as one of his main presents this year, limiting the number of toys we’d actually buy for him at an age where he can’t tell the difference between a new toy, an old toy, a kitchen spoon and the wrapping paper we annoyingly won’t allow him to put in his mouth.
We did take the opportunity to pick up on a few things for him that we know we will be buying sooner or later anyway, and family gave us a few more.
The first thing I KNEW we needed to get Ender, was a set of edible finger paints from Wee Can Too. I’ve always figured as soon as they’ve got the vision to see colors changing, and the ability to control their own hand movement, babies are ready to start experimenting with art. Unfortunately, available art supplies don’t reflect that. Though all (surely?) children’s art supplies are labeled “non-toxic,” they are recommended for ages 18 months minimum, and it’s pretty obvious that eating large quantities would be inadvisable.
So I was really excited to find paints that are actually designed for babies as young as 6 months. The paints are edible, but the owner of the company tells me they dry to colors that will keep on paper, and can be framed. We haven’t had a chance to try it out yet, but maybe sometime this week I’ll be feeling adventurous. They are made of food, so once babies are starting solid foods, they can use the paints.
We also got him a size sorter from P’kolino which is very nice looking. I don’t think he’s quite old enough to understand the purpose yet, but they’re sturdy pieces that he can gnaw on until he figures out that the fish go in the holes.
We were planning to stop with those two purchases, figuring that those plus the discovery bottles would be more than enough to fill the space under the tree. We ended up getting a couple last minute gifts though.
A set of Gymboree bubbles, because Ender is finally starting to watch bubbles with interest and I thought it would be fun for his cousins to blow bubbles while he watched. The weekend was so busy we never got around to it.
We also got him a small travel Sophie. If you’re not in the know Sophie is this little rubber giraffe that seems much more like a dog’s squeaky toy than a baby teether, but apparently every baby on the face of the planet LOVES it. Ender is no exception, and when he’s getting fussy, sometimes all you need to do is hand him Sophie and he chills out like it’s coated with vodka (no, it’s not coated with vodka). Seeing that, getting a travel Sophie for our plane trip in a few weeks seemed like a good idea, so that got added to the pile.
Family contributed a number of other toys from our wish list. There is the goldfish bowl (clear plastic soft container), with plush ocean creatures you can dump and drop inside. He got a Skwish which should also help keep him occupied on the plane. And he got this cool shape shifting chair toy (also P’kolino) which will make a fun crawling and climbing obstacle once he’s mobile.
He’ll be crawling any day now I think, and then I guess we’ll see what kind of a mess he makes with all these new things.
Who Needs Sleep
Every new mother parent knows about sleep deprivation. I was curious (and fearful) to see how it would impact me. In high school and college it sometimes seemed like I hardly ever slept, but somewhere in the following years sleep karma came crashing down and I turned into a zombie anytime I got less than a solid 8 hours.
I got my first taste of long term sleep loss in my final trimester. It wasn’t so much the frequent bladder demands- I am a rotten sleeper generally, so frequent waking wasn’t too much of a change. The bigger issue was the pain… one of the pregnancy hormones, I think its relaxin (?) makes all the ligaments stretchy, and it gets excruciating in the middle of the night, mainly around the hip region (not coincidentally).
But of course a newborn is a totally different ballpark.
Things got better around the 2 month mark, then much worse for a while, then way way better (with a few hiccups) around 4 and a half months. It’s all relative though. I’ve always assumed I was nocturnal through practice rather than nature, but it seems I lean that way even given incentive to change: now, waking consistently at 7 or earlier, I still have trouble falling asleep before 1 most nights. It’s a problem.
I have certainly adjusted though. I have not (that I am aware) become a zombie. I’m pretty much always tired, but you get used to it.
This weekend, thanks to an abundance of extra willing hands, I got some sleep. Every morning Ender went down for a two hour nap and every morning I went down for a two hour nap too.
Now, I have never been a great napper, but since having a baby I have managed to start taking naps at least when I REALLY need them. When I’m especially tired I do try to take naps in the morning with Ender. It’s amazing though what a difference having family there makes. Sleep is far more restful when I’m not sleeping with my ear cocked for the sounds of him waking up. When I know that I don’t HAVE to get up right when he wakes because someone else will go and cuddle him when he starts crying. Matt usually can’t fill that spot because generally if I’m tired enough to need a nap, so is he, so
we nap together, and when Ender wakes up, we get up together.
It’s funny. Getting a bit of extra sleep seems to be like having a bit of food after starving for months. I was more dopey with sleep this weekend I think than I have been the weeks before.
Today though? I feel great. It’s hard to pinpoint the difference, but it’s not just mental, even my body just feels better. Usually holidays, as fun and enjoyable as they might be, wear me out. And this Christmas, especially seeing it as I imagine Ender must be seeing it for the first time was no less tiring than any other holiday, but I feel energized instead of exhausted
Now if I could just start getting to sleep before midnight, maybe I can hold on to this lovely feeling of rest.
Pizza Christmas
I think I was about 12. My parents were bartenders when I was growing up, so they often had to work Christmas Eve, but this year, the bar was open Christmas, and Dad had to work. Mom and I were supposed to eat dinner at the Grill, so we could all have Christmas dinner together.
As a kid, I complained about our lack of traditions. Most kids I guess complain about having to follow traditions. About having to go to see Aunt Nancy every year even though it’s so boring, and my cousin Victor is a creep who won’t let me watch anything interesting on TV. But I craved the monotony of ritual and the extra connection of the family you only get to see once a year.
My grandmother moved to Oregon to be near us, when I was about 14. Before that, she’d visited on a Thanksgiving or two, and when she was in town, we had Thanksgiving with her brother Jim and his wife Flo, their daughter Mona, and a varying cast of family. No one my age to play with, and nothing for a kid to do there but try and pet the cat that hid from everyone. I loved it. When grandma wasn’t in town, we didn’t do anything.
The Thanksgiving before the Christmas when Dad had to work, I asked Mom, “why don’t we have Thanksgiving with Jim and Flo again?”
“We haven’t been invited.”
I rolled my eyes. I was probably getting good at it by then. “So invite ourselves. Flo won’t care.”
We had Thanksgiving there every year from then on until I left for college, and even though Jim died a few years ago, my parents still celebrate Thanksgiving with Flo and Mona. This makes me happy even though I’m too far to be a part of it.
Christmas though, Christmas could be anywhere. We could do anything. Over the course of my childhood I probably had 10 different stockings, each one picked up at a drug store a week before Christmas. Christmas Eve, we went to a party, the one constant, thrown by a good friend of my parents. They collected Santa statues and grew hot peppers in a pot and played hide the pickle in the Christmas Tree and my Godmother always brought her famous Chex Mix and someone else brought famous deviled eggs and my Dad always made his famous pork tenderloin. Once we got home though, it was all up in the air again. Sometimes we opened a present Christmas Eve, sometimes we opened all the presents from relatives Christmas Eve, sometimes we did stockings Christmas Eve and sometimes we didn’t do anything at all on Christmas Eve. Christmas I opened presents, and there were some GOOD presents, but once the wrapping paper was scattered on the floor and the gifts were laid out, that was it, the day was pretty much over.
And the year I was 12, my mom and I were supposed to stay and have dinner with Dad, but when we’d been there for only a few minutes, the crowd was so thick that we could feel the sweat from the family next to us. Most people don’t go out on Christmas, but when they do, there aren’t many places to go.
Dad couldn’t really sit, or stop, he was too busy. And the noise was bewildering me and giving Mom a headache so she said, let’s go home.
I was down about leaving without having Christmas dinner with Dad. I was more down when we tried to get dinner someplace else and couldn’t find an open elsewhere.
There was no food in the house, beyond salad dressing and ketchup and several bottles of mustard.
We finally stopped at a 7-11. We got Red Barron frozen pizza.
I probably loved it, but at the time I thought it was sad and symbolic. In fact I probably loved that it was sad and symbolic. I was that kind of kid.
And I guess I’m that kind of grown up. I think most Christmases were better than that one. Most of them I was happy and had fun with my parents and loved my presents. I resented not being dragged to the things I was too young to enjoy and thought I must be missing some huge secret.
I don’t have nostalgia for the church services I never went to or the one gift I got to pick out every Christmas Eve to open first, or the way we… well, I can’t really even imagine the traditions I thought I ought to have had beyond what I’ve seen on A Christmas Story.
Instead I get to think back and laugh about the Christmas I went home with Mom and had frozen pizza.
Love. Hate.
Hmm. What’s this?
Yuck!
Why would you do that to me?
Well, ok.
Ugh! It’s terrible!
Hey what’s this?
Wait, that’s not…
Bleah.
Why????
Hey what’s this?
He ate like this for half an hour.
Unfinished City
Holiday preparation is eating my brain. Here’s another drawing from when I was pregnant.
Click for a larger version.
Obviously unfinished. Another one I did at a Borders (a what now?) and since I’m not all that practiced at this kind of landscape (or any kind of landscape really) I didn’t get that far in the space of a decaf Oreo Javakula and a brownie. This is, apparently, the city of Pitigliano, from the book The Most Beautiful Villages of Tuscany.