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… just otherwise occupied. We survived the vacation! The Hatchling was a real trouper – slept better than she sleeps at home, lovedlovedloved the water, and remained amazingly zen about the sudden explosion of people she was living with (at one point, there were 11 of us!). She let her Oma take her down to the lake just about every day, and managed to get all her naps in even when the temperature and humidity soared. Her mama, on the other hand, was not quite so relaxed. I was so worried that we’d be bothering the others (shushing them all the time or waking them with a screaming baby) or that they’d be bothering us (making noise when the baby was sleeping or convincing me to stay up too late playing cards) that I had a hard time enjoying myself as much as I should have. It was very, very different from being there without a baby! Normally I think of the cottage as a place for serious vegetation – I read trash novels, spend entire days lying on the sand or in the water, and nights are for drinking and playing games with the siblings. I think this year I only actually got in the water two times, and the most I managed to read was a few scattered pages of magazines. But it was great to see the family, and for them to see the Hatchling. And my mom was in full-on chef mode, so we ate like kings. I’m glad we went, but boy, I’m also glad to be home!

The Hatchling and I are going on vacation for a week, to a locale with no hot water and no internet access. It will be the Hatchling’s first plane trip. Did I mention she’s teething? Yah. So … pray for me.

We’ll be back next weekend.

The Hatchling laughed for the very first time yesterday evening. She was nursing and when she got done something must have tickled her funny bone and she started to chuckle. That made me laugh, which made her laugh even harder. It was the Best. Sound. Ever.

Can somebody explain to me how it is that my cat knows EXACTLY the moment when I’ve just gotten the Hatchling to nod off, and invariably chooses that moment to come into the nursery and meow his loudest?

Because I would really like to know.

Yesterday, my friend P. and I were taking our babies on a walk around the lake, like we do almost every Wednesday. As we rounded a curve in the walk, we saw a phalanx of four other mommies pushing their strollers coming towards us.

P: Hey, ladies, wanna rumble?

(Two of them look confused, two give us sort of nervous laughs.)

Me (snorting with laughter): Dude, those women think we’re nuts!

P: I know. But I figure we’ll never see them again. (Pause.) We totally could have taken them, though.

Me: Oh, yeah. Totally.

THIS is what I have to look forward to? I’m not sure I’m ready …

(Thanks to Shan and Topher for the link.)

My religious background is somewhat varied: my family tended to congregation-hop, and as a kid I remember attending a wide variety of churches, from Lutheran to Presbyterian to Episcopalian to Catholic. (Yah, I know that’s not really much variety in the broad scheme of things, but when most of the people you know are lifers in one denomination, it counts.) Going to church, though varied, was constant – we were pretty much always a member of some congregation. I liked the Catholic and Episcopalian ones best. Although now I consider myself to be a militant agnostic (“I don’t know and you don’t either”), religion was quite important to me at certain moments in my childhood. I liked the ritual of it, the rhythms of the liturgical calendar, the sense of community. And to be honest, though I’m very very vague on the details, at bottom I think I still do believe in something like God. I’d guess Mr. Squab is in about the same position, though it’s not something we’ve ever talked about much. We don’t attend church, mostly due to inertia on my part and total lack of interest on Mr. Squab’s part. When we found out I was pregant, I did think about joining a congregation. I’m pretty ambivalent about many aspects of organized religion, but I also think it’s hard to make a choice about something you have no familiarity with, so I feel like I need to expose the Hatchling to religion in some form. Additionally, given the extent to which Judeo-Christian ideologies underpin our whole culture, it seems like a good idea to give my kids a working knowledge of the framework, you know?

Anyway, this is all by way of saying that we haven’t baptized the Hatchling. And I feel a little weird about it. On the one hand, it feels dishonest to baptize her when neither of her parents has darkened a church door in living memory. On the other hand, I was baptized, and Mr. Squab was baptized, and … well … it just feels like something you ought to do. I don’t buy into any silly notions of limbo or anything – it’s not like I’m afraid she’s going to go to hell. But there is something nice about being formally welcomed into a community, which is what baptism really is in the end, right? Only we don’t so much belong to one of those communities. And I’m pretty sure that Mr. Squab isn’t interested in giving up his Sunday mornings, so if I do decide to start going to church again, it will just be me and the Hatchling. Which makes it that much harder to get up the gumption to get out the door … yeah. Did I mention I was ambivalent? Anyway, what do you all think? Is baptism important? What’s the best way for an overeducated feminist agnostic to expose her daughter to religion? How do you talk to your kids about this stuff?

So, at my last doctor’s visit we had the birth control discussion. Breastfeeding is some protection against conception right now, but not total protection, and since Mr. Squab and I would commit hara-kiri if we got knocked up right now, some form of control was in order. Prior to conceiving the Hatchling I was using the Nuva Ring, which is pretty frickin’ awesome for a lazy squab like myself. But the Ring has estrogen, which is contraindicated when breastfeeding on accounta it might dry up your milk supply. So that was out. The only Pill I could have taken was a progesterone only version, and that’s the kind you have to be extra sure to take at the same time every day. I am WAY too scatterbrained for that kind of commitment, people. So my lovely doctor recommended an IUD. I’d never really considered one of those. Not sure why, I just hadn’t. But people, they are AWESOME. I have this new kind that emits progesterone, which means that it reduces cramping, length and heaviness of flow, and all that good stuff. Some people even quit having their period altogether. And once it’s in, it lasts for five years. Five freaking YEARS. I mean, holy crap! But at the same time, anytime we decide we want to start trying again, it just comes right out and bang, you’re as fertile as if you hadn’t been using anything. This is a lazy person’s dream contraceptive! (Well, a lazy and monogamous person’s.) I’m a big fan.

Well, it’s official: I’m not going back to work. I sent in my official resignation this morning, and got back a brief, polite, but unhappy reply from my manager. Now it’s just a matter of filling out the requisite paperwork and tying up all the loose ends. Fortunately, I did an extra thorough job of preparing for my maternity leave in the hopes that I’d be able to make it permanent, so the transition should be fairly smooth.

On paper, you understand, this is an INSANE thing to do. I was the major breadwinner in our family, and we just bought a house, for chrissakes. Of course, Mr. Squab is likely to get a big promotion in the near future, and with the cost of childcare being so insane in this state, most of my pay would have been going towards daycare anyway. But still! We’re a little nervous about this. Mr. Squab will be ramping up his freelance work (he’s a graphic designer), and I’ll have to look for some freelance writing/editing work of my own, or maybe try to pick up a night class at a community college. It’s going to be tight-tight-tight, but after talking it over, we decided it would be worth it. I was absolutely dreading the thought of leaving the Hatchling with someone else three days a week – I know, I’m sure we both would have survived it and I’m just being a baby about it, but I was not looking forward to that first dropping off.

I also realized that I’ve been holding back a little – not completely investing in being a SAHM, just in case I couldn’t find a way to stay home permanently. Now that I know I will be with her all the time, I’m sort of excited about it. Having my mom at home was such an important part of my childhood, and I’m feeling very lucky that I’ll get to provide the same environment for the Hatchling. You know, unless we have to go into the poorhouse or something. Gulp. Wish us luck!