Tired Brains Melt Down

Not only does sleep deprivation slow one's mental and reasoning skills, apparently, lack of sleep makes one overreact emotionally to situations and events that would otherwise be handled with grace and tact. So says a new study. So where does that leave all of us hollow-eyed parents--especially those of us expected to perform at a place of business--when we feel like we are not much better adjusted or socially equipped than our toddlers?

I've begun taking half a sleep-aid tablet at night to get as much sleep as I can, but this is beginning to worry me. There are some days when I need a nap as much as or more than my toddler, and some days when I am absolutely unable to fight it--coffee or no coffee.

Toddlers and YouTube

When we have nothing to do, sometimes my toddler and I surf YouTube. Here are three of her favorite finds:

The Rhino Song
The Elephant Song
The Lion Sleeps Tonight

Wonkosphere

I am absolutely exhausted and brain dead, having been up since 4:30 in the morning. Was it the full moon? The first day of school for DD#1? Stress about how to handle the coming weeks? The nanny who never came back from vacation? I don't know, but I did want to take a moment in between getting the kids to bed and before losing consciousness myself to link to an interesting site I stumbled upon earlier today called Wonkosphere. The site describes itself as "your listening post for the 2008 presidential election." It also has a nice blog. Genuinely non-partisan, they update every four hours with all kinds of info on all the Republican and Democratic candidates, from the so-called "first tier" establishment candidates (Obama, Giuliani, and Hillary) to those who have no chance whatsoever (John McCain) to those the mainstream media all but ignore (Ron Paul, Dennis Kucinich, and Mike Gravel), giving equal weight to all, although, of course, I found no reference to any third-party or independent candidates.

Seven Years

I've been meaning to write something on the topic of motherhood. I know, that is such a huge and daunting subject that I will only be able to address bits and pieces in various blog posts, and it is hard to know where to even begin. I'd been thinking that as Noelle approaches seven years of age (exactly two months from today), I've been hard at work on this motherhood gig for almost seven years already! I can hardly believe it myself that I've made it this far. I remember how overwhelmed and awe-struck and inadequate I felt when she was first born. Today, seven years and another daughter later, I am much more relaxed and comfortable in my role.

I've been thinking a lot lately of all the ways motherhood has changed me inwardly and outwardly, as well as radically altered the general flow and direction of my life. (Speaking of "outwardly," there is a fascinating website where very brave women post photos of their bodies before, during, and after pregnancy.)

Our daughters are almost five and a half years apart. By the time the second one came along, it had been literally years since we had had a diaper, bottle, or pacifier in the house. It's very strange and wonderful to be back in the thick of it again, feeling a little bit wiser but very much older. Having two kids is more than twice as difficult as having one. It is more like exponentially more difficult. As a working mother I am doing twice the running around to school, activities, day care, preschool. And when I begin to think about adding up the financial costs of this endeavor I never allow myself to follow that thought through to its conclusion. (This article I just read today sums up some of the basic costs--minus private schools and college, the most prohibitive expenses of all--although it seems a conservative estimate to me. Babysitting costs for a night out? Joining sports teams? Piano lessons? Paying for full airfares and extra sleeping accommodations in hotels if you dare to travel anywhere after the child turns two? Not really addressed in the piece.) But there are moments, like this one, when the older one takes the younger one by the hand or squeezes her with pure affection, or when they are playing and laughing together and the house feels full of life, that truly do make it feel like the everyday struggles and sacrifices are all worthwhile.

Picnic at Hanging Rock

Over the weekend I had the chance to see this amazing Peter Weir film from 1975 once again. It had been about 10 years since the last time I saw it. It is always so interesting for me to go back and see films or read books after a long period of time, and see different things in it than I had when I was younger. Picnic at Hanging Rock is a masterpiece of psychological tension, so evocative of another place and time. The story involves the disappearance of three boarding school students and one of their teachers while picnicing at the mythic site on Valentine's Day, 1900. Their disappearance is never explained or resolved, and the behavior of the young girls, which appears to be so in keeping with rural Australia in 1900, seems so innocent and yet so odd to us today. Check out this image and this one to get a sense of the atmosphere Weir creates. The unresolved mystery at the heart of this film is what I find appealing, along with the striking cinematography. Dialogue is minimal. We often hear characters' thoughts without them ever being spoken aloud. And the music, especially the pan pipes that fade in and out, is particularly haunting. While it seems very rooted in its time and place, it is also very evocative of some other films of the same era, especially two by Michelangelo Antonioni: The Passenger (1975) and Zabriskie Point (1970). All are highly recommended.

It was also poignant to have seen this film the same weekend we went hiking in Calaveras Big Trees State Park. The colossal trees and massive granite outcroppings, strikingly similar to the ones in the film, have been around for centuries, some for literally thousands of years, and it is easy to imagine all they have borne witness to.