You've never met a transcendental equation before, have you?

Baby A is doing better.

And now I know what normal parenting tired feels like. I still don't quite get enough sleep. She's practically walking without help, and the child does...not...stop. I call her my force of nature. Every waking moment is spent upright, engaged, moving, testing, eating, pulling, screaming or babbling. So I get the tired thing.

But this tired has nothing whatsoever to say to the tired of the first 5 months. They don't talk, they don't speak the same language, and they probably have totally different life goals. That tired was hellish. It made me nauseous and still does when I think back to it. It was in-human. And it was not what "all parents go through."

And just as with many situations we find ourselves in, especially those which are not common among people but are difficult, once you've been there, you can usually tell other people who have been there, too. You start to tell them your story and very quickly get "oh my god, I know!" or "Yes, that was really hard!" Phrases like that. People who have been through some other version of that stage of life, on the other hand, seem to have a very different reaction.

It is as if they have lost faith in other people's different experiences. If they had an easy time with their baby and breastfeeding, then what are you doing stopping at 4 months? If their kid sleeps anywhere and everywhere, maybe you're just too sensitive when it comes to your kid and should stop spoiling them. And if they just solved for "x" by isolating it one one side of an equation, then what the hell are you doing having such a hard time with your "transcen"-whatever? See, in calculus, just after I got the hang of solving for "x", I met the transcendental equation. Try solving for "x" in:

x = cos(x)

Good luck with the dividing both sides by...anything. You solve it graphically, or with Newton's method. But someone who hasn't gone through it before will say very different things about an equation like that than someone who has. Just like with babies, marriage, depression, moving to another country, etc.

I know what it is like to try getting pregnant for many years. But, I have no idea what it is like to have had a miscarriage. Or to go through a divorce. And that means that I don't have the experiences of those things in context. And have no business judging someone else going through them. I know empathy is about putting yourself in someone else's shoes, but I think we've forgotten along the way that we can't actually do it.

Well, we can put ourselves as we are, with only our experiences, in those shoes. But that is completely different from actually going through those things. So we need to trust the people going through them when they say it is hard, or say something else about the process that we find hard to believe.

Can I tell you how relieved and affirmed I felt the first time I talked with another mom with a sleepless baby? About how hard it was. How depressing. We had so many experiences in common that it suddenly felt like a situation I was in and not so much like my lack of fortitude or calm. I mean, we kept saying "I know!" and "Yes, yes, yes" to each others stories, down to the every third day showers. Not "lucky if you shower by 4pm" but "negotiating which spouse showers that day based on who is leaving the house."

The context of the situations in which people suffer, great or small suffering, is everything. But we forget this, and wind up judging the people for failing to sufficiently handle a situation we have never been in. Instead of assuming that the situation is hard and that we would act almost the same way if it was us. If you can't solve for "x" by dividing or multiplying, you must not be very smart.

It's hot. Damn hot. Like, hot hot.

Yesterday was another scorcher. Okay, it was 90 F and sort of dry, but remember, no A/C. A few little table fans. And the bad idea of having the apartment cleaned in the afternoon.

This meant that me and the beibis had to go elsewhere for 3 hours. We went down. First to our little village center to hang out in the grocery store while I returned all the PET bottles. So, actually, the supermarkets and some buses have A/C. The emergency solution is to either go food shopping for 4 hours straight, or just ride a bus back and forth along its line.

We did neither. Instead we kept heading down, to the river, and then to a fake island in the river, where big trees are planted, a baby swim area calls to little feet and bottoms of all ages, a playground, and a whole bunch of grass. Oh, and stairs. That lead into the fast flowing river. For swimmers.

We met up with a few friends, tried our best to sample all leaves, sticks and dirt within reach, took a power nap way too late in the day. And when M arrived from his day in the center of town, he and I traded off baby duty to go jump in the river a few times each.

Well, we walked down the stairs into the river and joined the floating...others (in their speedos and bikinis, board shorts, swim trunks, one-pieces). I was going to say "floating masses" but something about changing lots of diapers these last many months makes that term sound gross. We then aimed for the stairs near the rope that is meant to catch you, and climbed out. Very civilized. Even better, very cool water.

It was still pretty hot and sunny when we got home around 6pm, but the daily storm rolled in around 9pm and things cooled off nicely.

See? Sometimes we have good days.

The Christmas egg cometh

Baby A was barely born by the time Christmas came around this year.

I managed to find the ornaments and put all the dyed eggs I've made over the years on the tree that a friend so wonderfully brought us. We were running on empty already at that point. It was amazing to have a tree, with lights and baubles no less.

The eggs I'd made special for M one year were up there. As were a few I'd kept from the year I made egg ornaments for family presents.

But no special egg for Baby A.

Easter came and went. Still, we were running on empty. I don't even know if we got around to eating some ham or anything. We definitely didn't have any new dyed eggs, and I didn't do my yearly egg decorating party.

So here is it, mid-July, and I finally made it. I got un-dated eggs from the farmer's market this weekend, and pulled out the two nicest ones to work on. I've had the design in mind for months, now. Ever since I realized I hadn't gotten to make anything for my daughter yet. It will only require one dye color (in contrast to the usual 10 I mix up from the Ukranian on-line store), black. It will be based on one of her first loves as a newborn, the IKEA pillow case we bought last year.

I already penciled in the design and even got all the wax on it. I just need to mix up a jar of black, dip it, melt off the wax, and hope the egg survives the evacuation procedure. A bit of shellac and done.

It may still take me months to do this last bit. Okay, the emptying needs to happen in the next few days. I'm talking about the finishing touches of shellac and of a string. But by next Christmas, Baby A will have her "baby's first Christmas" egg, on her second Christmas. Maybe I'll even make a second one by then.

Doubt it.

The 80s are coming, the 80s are coming!

We live in Europe. Which means we have radiators and no central cooling mechanisms of any sort in the apartment. No A/C or fan. Just two, sort of small table fans.

So when the forecast for the city is close to 90 F, it is time to open all the windows in the cool hours of the morning (thank heavens we live in a dry enough place that it does get chilly at night in summer), and then around 10am, to go around closing windows, lowering the heavy metal blinds, and the balcony umbrella. The fans will be rallying in whichever room we are in. And if we don't make it out to get a baby pool this morning, the rectangular pyrex baking dish will once again be on water splashing duty.

In most buildings, though, it really isn't the hell that it would be in the US. Especially the really old, stone buildings. Unfortunately, we do not live in one such building where it stays 70 F year round. But it is nice to have less frozen air being blown around in general. Even Starbucks feels stuffy when you walk in from the heat, but by the time you have your drink, you realize they just have the A/C on low. So maybe it is 75 F in there compared to 88 F outside. It does make a difference. And you don't need to bring a parka with you to the grocery store.

I think Baby A knows about the impending heat. She is already in her second hour of sleep for an early morning nap. Pretty uncommon. Maybe she'll grace me with another long one later, but maybe not.

I've got my lightest summer dress on.

And I'm wishing we weren't on such a high floor. I bet you those ground floor apartments are all cool and damp and dark.

Oh well, we can always just roll the crib into the cool tile foyer downstairs tonight and all sleep there. Or maybe we'll unload all the junk in the storage space BACK into the apartment and sleep THERE. Yeah. We'll survive.