View the entire session (shot exclusively at Starbucks by The Godfather) here.

It was deeply inspiring. For a class that was supposed to be a snore and general waste of time, I found that several of the lecturers piqued my curiosity. At long last, I heard about a computer engineering study concentration that appealed to me: An interdisciplinary study co-op’d between Computer Engineering and the Fine Arts department that feeds into the film and digital media world. How cool would that be to study? I’d get to learn how to draw, animate, render sounds all the while learning how to program and construct technology to support it. I get giddy at the thought of it. It certainly feels like what I want to strive for.

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She’s not this little anymore. In fact, she’s notably larger. I would guess she’s more than 10 pounds now and continues to stretch out.  Things of note this week:

• Nursing is no longer a miserably terrorizing experience.  It’s more like a private party for just the two of us that is very special and close.  Unless, of course, she’s feeling rambunctious and then I feel like one of those burrito trucks that visits construction sites.
• We beat back a case of cradle cap.
• Her baby acne seems to be ebbing off.
• If we could bottle the smell of her perfectly round head I would wear it for perfume.
• She furrows her brow just like her daddy does.

(Via Darlene)

Today we (me, Evelyn, my mom, and Matthew’s mom) visited the Weems Artfest (the link goes to the Weems Gallery, which showcases a few artists, some of whom are participants at the artfest) at Expo NM fairgrounds. I bought myself a beautiful serving platter that’s white and blue and I also found a Christmas gift for Jessica.  I hope she likes it.  I’m mentioning it here so I can drive her nutters with curiosity while I remain coolly aloof.  Evelyn was a big hit as she slept in the sling and carried about by Babka (Ukrainian for “grandma”).  Before we had even made it down the first aisle it was apparent that we needed to pin a sign to Evelyn’s butt that contained basic information:

“She is a girl.  She is 7 weeks old. Her name is Evelyn. No, she does not sleep through the night yet. No, you may not touch her.”

On a completely separate note, here’s a new blog for daily reading:  Housewifeistan. The author is a friend of mine, but since she’s chosen to write under a pseudonym it is only respectful not to reveal her true identity. Suffice to say, she’s fantastically clever and a woman who I respect tremendously on a number of levels.

Join me in a hearty HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR!! <GASP!> HAR HAR HARH HAR HARHARHARHAR!!

Especially when you need her to wake up and nurse to relieve the pressure, or when you need her to wake up long enough so that she’ll sleep a normal pattern that night.  Or, when you need to put her in the car seat to go run errands.  Or…

I’ve been trying to coax Evelyn into a little bit of a feeding and sleeping schedule.  “Trying” being the operative word here.  We go along our merry way for a few days and then one serious power nap in the late afternoon (by Evelyn, not me) throws a monkey wrench in the works and we have one of our hell nights of more awake time than asleep time.  I’m sure it’s just a factor of her gaining weight, growing, maturing ,etc…but I gotta say that when I get 3 or fewer hours of sleep spread out over the course of 9 hours, I feel considerably robbed, and on the hysterical.  It’s mornings like today that I make the strategic decision: It’s 7:00am.  Evelyn has finished her morning nursing.  Do I..

1. Get up, put Evelyn in the bouncy chair, and take a shower?
2. Get up, give Evelyn to her father, and go get some breakfast?
3. Stay in bed, bring Evelyn in with me, and manipulate both of us back to sleep for another 2 hours?
4. Hop a slow bus to El Paso?

I chose (4).  I wonder if sleep is like exercise, in that it is cumulative and you can catch some throughout the day or night and it counts towards your overall total sleep.  I like to think so.  In fact, I’m clinging to that thought.

It has been 4 weeks of learning and adjusting with all the smoothness of an 8 second ride strapped to the back of an agitated bull named World War Three.  From what I can tell, that’s all parenthood is: a protracted episode of Learning and Adjusting.  I’m not sure if Matthew has felt the adjustment to the same intensity, but I can say from my own perspective that I wouldn’t care to repeat these past 4 weeks.  Once is enough.

In the past 4 weeks, I have:

• Learned to breastfeed
• Learned to breastfeed through excruciating pain related to cracking and chapping
• Learned to breastfeed while healing said cracking and chapping using lanolin
• Learned to breastfeed after discovering (after 3 weeks of unadulterated misery) I have a sensitivity to lanolin and switching to Vitamin E oil
• Learned to not completely hate breastfeeding
• Learned how to use a breast pump
• Learned to distinguish between crying tones: pissy, uncomfortable, unhappy, outraged, startled, diaper, etc…
• Learned to put clothes on over her head without smashing her nose or ears
• Learned how to give a wriggling infant a bath
• Learned how great it is when infant goes into something of a schedule
• Learned how awful it is when infant decides schedules are for sucks and goes off into the scheduling weeds
• Learned that sleep is overrated
• Learned that spit-up, pee, poo, and other various semi-solid outputs via indiscriminate orifices aren’t as gross when they come out of my own baby versus someone else’s
• Learned how to use a baby sling and a Moby wrap
• Learned that no matter how much one may wish to think so, there is no equal effort of care giving between mother and father because father can’t lactate
• Learned how strong the temptation is to chop off all my hair in an effort to create one less thing to deal with
• Learned that sometimes it’s OK to let the baby cry a little
• Learned that as soft as babies are, the have some pretty sharp corners
• Learned how to trim  sleeping baby’s finger nails after awake baby grabbed a fistfull of boob skin with untrimmed finger nails

I’ve also accepted that I look like a Fraggle most of the time.   A Fraggle with circles under her eyes and running on an emotional hair trigger.  Especially after nights like last night when Evelyn saw fit to flip day with night and was awake and wanting to visit and/or nurse every 30-45 minutes.

We’ve survived the first month.  I expect we’ll survive the coming months as well, but it’s hard to look that far down the road when I can’t even predict if I’ll get breakfast today.   Evelyn is still adorable, despite all the challenges and I’m madly in love with her.  Even when she’s showing me her pissy face.