I made Baharat tonight! It was fun. Normally I don’t go on about culinary escapades, of which I have many. But I am alway proud when I successfully produce a quasi-legitimate version of a “spice blend” that I get tired of buying in packets or in obscure ethinic markets.

The recipe I used was from recipezaar, though I adjusted down the amounts. Mine ended up being:

1 tablespoon whole black peppercorn

1 1/2 teaspoons whole coriander seeds

1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon (I just used pre-ground)

1 1/2 teaspoons whole cloves

2 teaspoons cumin seeds

1/4 teaspoon cardamom (Again, pre-ground — that’s what I had)

1/2 whole whole nutmeg

1 tablespoon ground paprika

New mommyhood has had one side effect that I wasn’t fully expecting: baggage. I don’t mean the metaphorical, emotional kind. I mean physical baggage. On any given day, I put the following in the car in the morning:

• Diaper bag
• Gym bag
• Bottle cooler bag
• Pump tote bag
• Pumped milk cooler bag
• Lunch bag
• Purse

It has gotten completely ridiculous. Thankfully, I’ve downsized to where purse fits in diaper bag, but still…

In the more occasional arena, gone are the days of traveling light. Taking the pack ‘n’ play, it’s associated bassinet and changing table, a makeup case full of Avery’s clothes, the stroller, the car seat, our carriers…. to think we used to be able to weekend it in a backpack each.

Back to work. This is week three of my part time status back at the office. I have to say, the transition has been really really hard. It isn’t being apart from Avery, so much — I have realized that I need time away from her, with adults, learning, using my brain in new and different ways. But that being said, it’s completely exhausting — and I’m only working five hour days. I’m frankly extremely worried about what it will be like when I am back full time. I feel barely coherent most of the time now. And since the work I’m doing isn’t development but rather is giant spreadsheets of data, which makes my eyes cross, the foggy head really gets in the way.

And I do miss my daughter. We had such wonderful, lazy mornings the whole time I was at home. She seems to have inherited my natural internal clock — up between 8 and 9, sleep between 11 and midnight. It isn’t compatible with working, but it was blissful while we were home. We’d have lazy mornings, nursing and napping, and at about 11 we’d get out and start our day. Now I have to wake her up at 7:00, and neither she nor I like that very much.

Overall, it’s a big adjustment, and I’m feeling pretty melancholy about it. I’m considering talking with my boss about retaining my part time status at the end of six weeks if there still isn’t work in my full time field by then. Unfortunately or fortunately though, depending on how you look at it, it seems that things are picking up and that may not be an option. Ugh. At least it’s a decision with a four week delay.

So my pledge sister Jamie came up from Houston today to take photos of Avery. She is a professional photographer, and a very talented one (you can check out her company, Casa de Camera, at the website). I haven’t seen Jamie in about ten years, since we graduated from UT. We recently reconnected on Facebook, and after Avery was born she sent me a note asking when she could come take her picture. I told her I’d LOVE to have her come, and asked her what the sitting fee was, etc. She told me it was complementary, just requested that I love the photos (not hard to do.) And that was it. After TEN YEARS out of touch.

I have never considered myself to have been a very good sorority sister. I was always slightly removed in college, was a lousy big sis, and had a cynical attitude about most social events (at least of the mixer variety). However, I have a lot of love for my pledge sisters, a group of truly remarkable women. Despite being off the radar, I’d gladly do anything for any of them. My Facebook experiences have been incredibly humbling. There is still so much cameraderie and love there that’s being extended to me, even though I don’t really deserve it. I guess that’s what sisterhood is all about.

And they are still all badasses.

I am planning to attend my first postnatal yoga class tomorrow or Thursday. I took Sarah’s prenatal class from January until the week before I delivered, and it was a wonderful oasis of peaceful time in my hectic pregnant/working/go-go-go life. I am really looking forward to doing something active again, and it is great that my baby can go with me. Hopefully I’ll meet some ladies there that I can connect with.

Steve and I have started working towards having a “schedule” to our weeks, with the understanding that we’re dealing with a creature of chaos in a Clifford-print diaper. But we figure if we start setting aside structured time for the gym, yoga, the dojo, baby bathtime, and a dinner out every now and then, we’ll start to feel a bit more human.

I hear many women describe themselves as breastfeeding “survivors,” bearing the emotional and psychological scars of poor latches, aching breasts, bleeding and scabbing, mastitis, thrush, low milk supply, and the like.

To date, I have had a pretty easy experience — Avery is a smart cookie and figured out how to latch well before we even left the hospital. I was a little sore the first couple of days, but liberal use of lanolin quickly resolved it before the first week was out. I’ve done some combat with engorgement and an overabundant milk supply, but I’ll take that over the alternative any day — at least I know she’s getting enough food.

But then yesterday, I had my first experience with a plugged duct.

And now I understand.

It hurt like holy hell.

We’re talking couldn’t hold the baby against my chest withough searing pain kind of hurt. Couldn’t sleep hurt. Gripping Steve’s hand and crying while nursing kind of hurt.

Thankfully, Cheryl Heymans, a lactation consultant I found through Special Addition, was able to help me out. Extra nursing finally finally finally got the milk through, but wow. I am still going through the regimine to make sure the inflamation goes down enough that it won’t come right back.

In case you ever need it, here’s the advice I received:

• Ibuprofen, a hefty dose (she told me to use whatever I had left from the hospital) consistently.
• Phytolacca (avaliable at People’s Pharmacy here in town) — the pharmacist said to take 3-5 pellets under the tongue, every ten minutes the first half hour, every hour until the problem calms down, and then every three hours from there.
• Nurse nurse nurse, and pump if the milk doesn’t start moving.
• Use cold compresses after nursing to help with the swelling.
• Epsom salt bath for the affected side, about 20 minutes with a handful of salts, as hot as you can stand.
• Take extra vitamin C and Zinc for a few days to boost your immune system and avoid infection.
• Rest, chill, and drink lots of fluids.

May you never need to know it.

So all the nursing warriors out there, I tip my hat to you. One skirmish was enough for me. I hope I don’t have to do another tour of duty. Like ever.

Where have I been? Um… Pregnant. And then having a baby. And now very very tired but living with this amazing experience.

Pregnancy was … easy. Am I allowed to say that? I never had any side effects to speak of, really. A little bit of swelling very very late. Round ligament pain throughout, since I had tight abs to begin with and they fought expanding every step of the way. Some abdominal cramping up front, which is part of what clued me in that I was pregnant in the first place. Exhaustion throughout. But that was *it*. I never got uncomfortable, never had morning sickness, never resembled a balloon. I didn’t gain eighty pounds or have lower back issues or pubic symphisis or any of the host of other discomforts so many ladies experience.

My doctor and midwife were quick to point out that I *made* it an easy pregnancy. I worked out the whole way through, ate decently, stayed hydrated, all that. Honestly, if I could give one bit of advice to pregnant ladies anywhere, it would be to stay active. It kept my mood light and made a world of difference in how I felt. I noticed that any time I went a week without a visit to the gym, I could almost feel myself getting lethargic, feeling stiff, growing roots into the couch. Not for me. Exercise kept me sane.

Labor (insanely short), postpartum experiences… well, those are hefty subjects that I can maybe tackle another time. I’m working on writing up the birth story, because I think it’s important. Already details are getting a little bit hazy. I feel I need to formally record them and process both the events and how they felt and affected me. It’s a big moment in life, probably the most absorbing, intense physical experience I’ll ever have.

And now, there’s Avery. She’s amazing. And luckily, she’s a very good baby. She was born June 7. So Stv and I are still in that new-baby twilight, where time has very little meaning. You live life in three hour cycles, essentially. We’re working on stretching out the nighttime cycles to be a little longer, but it is a slow process.

I’ve decided to blog Avery minutae on her own site, so you’ll be spared it here. She’s an integral part of my life, but there’s something that feels psychologically healthy about having a separation, still having a place where I can blog my perspective and the rest of my life in a context outside of my daughter.

So to follow Avery, check out AveryEWhite.com. There are photos and updates and such.

And hopefully, I’ll be back here soon. I miss journaling.

Coolest. Dresses. Ever.

I am participating in another writing challenge right now, but it’s a much more doable 100 words a day. The 301 was incredibly difficult for me. One positive — this time, I’ve actually put together almost ten pages of  a real story. I still seem to have a phobia about actually switching scenes, but even a meandering scene is at least a start. I’m getting to know the protagonists and it’s generating food for thought around the central conflict.

Work continues to be crazy busy, and I am sooo tired. Next weekend I’m going on a writers retreat. I promised myself I’d have at least ten pages written by then, so I really should be typing over there and not over here…

Wow. Just…. Wow. We had an amazing trip. Hawai’i really is a paradise. I actually cried on the last morning because I wasn’t ready to leave. There’s something about the breeze that is so fresh. It always smells good. We did a mountain bike ride down from the Haleakala crater, and I kept being distracted by smells. Eucalyptus, jasmine, the earthy scents of the wooded areas. It was the kind of air spas pay ridiculous money to have.

The beaches on Maui are mostly little coves, and if you get away from the big hotels, you’ll be one of maybe five people on your own perfect sliver of sand. Snorkeling got us within about three feet of some beautiful sea turtles, who just chilled at the surface with us. I had never seen one before, and to get that close was magical.

I could write tons about what we did, and maybe I will. But what I really wanted to do was post photos! So here they are … sorta culled through, but I apologize that there are still so many.