Dear Nora: At a Week

Dear Nora:
       I understand that you've handled everything they've thrown at you like it was a stroll in the park.  Way to go.  You'll get an actual stroll in the park soon.  You'll like it there.  It is to wild nature like Charlie to a wolf, but as an intro course, it'll do.
       Rumor has it you don't like a wet diaper.  I'm pretty sure nobody does.  But good for you, listening to the messages your body is sending.  There is something to that metaphor, the body as a temple. You don't worship the temple itself, but that is the place your spirit is active and renewed.  Let the temple ruin and you'll suffer, distracted from the things you were put here to accomplish.  Some think a body is just a bag of water and chemicals, but it's the bag only you were given, the bag where the inner you lives, and it's a pretty wonderful bag, no matter what the fashion magazines say.  By design, you'll feel what it needs.  Don't ignore it.  Some kids live with so much filth and pain they quit complaining about it.  Don't ever compromise there.  Make sure your body is taken care of. (Said the guy with no neck)
       I wrote today to tell you something you may already know. You're gifted.  Now I don't mean that in the way schools will later describe you; advanced in the knowledge and skills schools measure.  And I don't mean you are some sort of prodigy or intellectual giant. (You might be. Who knows.  And who knows if that's more gift or burden?)  What I mean by gifted, is that you have special talents (I believe we are all born with them), and  nothing to hinder you revealing them.  You are healthy.  Your DNA, with a few exceptions, is sound.  You are safe, for now. You are loved. You are not born into poverty, or arrogance and wealthy privilege.  You have extended family.  The society you'll know, while not perfect, is better than most, with values and traditions, as well as challenges.  Did I say you were loved?
       And now the bad news.  Since you are gifted, there will be expectations.  Part of the excitement of a newborn is the potential for the development of a person of unique value; someone who can make a difference in the world, make it a better place, maybe fix some of the problems we couldn't.  You represent hope.  That's a lot of pressure, even though nobody can clearly define that "person of value" for you, or show you a sure way to get there, as it should be.
       You'll pretty much decide your own course, and in your case there's nothing stopping you.  Some of us spend our whole lives just trying to figure it out.  Trust me, the bar setters will have high standards for you.  Ignore them.  Blow right past them.  Don't allow yourself to be limited.  Be that Marine commercial.
       Once again though, you have an edge. You share a home with accomplished difference makers.  Understanding what drives them can help you.  Wherever that leads, know I'm cheering you on.
       Now and again, I'll set paper to pen.  You do the same.  Go team Nora! K
     

Promise Kept

 The baby cruised through gestation and was born normally and she's fine.  Better than fine.  She kept her promise.  Of course she did.  People in that family always do.  And now I can admit that I was terrified that she might not.  All the disappointment and doctors and drugs and moods and embryos in glass...  Then the announcement and celebration ten minutes pregnant... And the documentation, baby bump photos, research and friends sharing advice...  The nursery build, the showers, the photo shoot, the sonograms.  I suppose there are warriors and worriers, and I'm more the latter,  but I couldn't keep from the edge of my mind the fear there might be a problem, and the devastation that could follow.  But as she graduated trimester to trimester my confidence grew, and now that she's home and swaddled, I'm hoping my reticence didn't scare or offend anyone.  Someday I'll thank her, just for showing up.

Practical Thermodynamic Weight Loss

      Two folks discussing the best way to lose weight and remain happy, healthy humans.  Exercise and portion control with supplements wins the day.  However, the old calories-in-vs-calories-out cliche ruffles feathers, and the debate heats up.  I've been in this discussion, and it is silly, in a way.  I hear my own words spoken a different day, "Everything you eat is burned, stored or passed.  It's simple physics."  And from the other side, "But people metabolize at different rates.  Some store fat more efficiently", yada yada.  All true of course, but irrelevant to the starving argument.
      They both turn to me.  Dangit. I knew this would happen.
      "Well", I say, "Real world observation shows that, without exception, malnourished individuals lose tissue mass.  But I'm not sure they're all that happy about it!"

Dear Nora - A Modeling Career?

Dear Nora:
       Folklore describes the loss of a bit of life energy whenever a human image is captured on paper or in a box.  Some would say that putting a camera on every corner (and in satellites) produces a soul-less society.  I don't know if that's true.  But I can relate that cameras have gradually come to record major parts of my life, even being inserted into an orifice or two, and with every incident playback and viewed image, I feel diminished. 
       I wasn't too distressed seeing the first grainy photos of your cute face pressed up against the glass pane of the womb, only curious that there seemed to BE a glass pane in the womb. 
      Then you and your folks decided to do that pregnant photo shoot.  There you were, pushed out front in some poses that weren't perhaps suitable for all audiences.  I don't know if you had input into the tone and content of the session, or retain editing rights and control of the release of the material, but this early in your career I suggest being conservative to avoid regrettable images that might dictate your path.
      Of course, at your coming out party, there were lots of photos with family, etc.  Even those pics should be limited to ten thousand or so, and should require a waiver. 
      Then, lo and behold, the hospital is using your picture on it's promotional billboards around town.  Hundreds of thousands of folks will know who you are.  Congrats to your agent.  Some say that "any press is good press", but I can assure you from personal experience that is not always the case. (Not talking about it.)  But from the images I've seen, you're safe, and the hospital made a good investment.  You ARE getting paid, right?  You can count on photographers, ad-men, and "friends" in the industry wanting a piece of your success, but insist that bits of your soul come with a price.  Your "life energy" is boundless now, but you won't be young and perfect forever with clamorers at your door.  Work it. 
      Anyway, congrats at your achievements. I'll drop a note here and there.  You do the same. K

Dear Nora: Happy Birthday

Dear Nora:
     Happy Birthday.  I'd sing but they say my voice should be perfectly pitched.  But really, it sounds like your birthday WAS happy.  Good job.  The labels I spoke of earlier, the ones people will assign to you because of the way you came; seem to be all positive.  "She sure didn't wait around!", and "Wow. Once she made up her mind...", and "She knows what she wants (food), and she's GOING for it!".
     Not to spoil your pride rock moment, but you may have noticed those around you are winding down some.  The adrenaline rush will have a rebound.  They, like you, have been through some changes in the last few days.  In a perfect world, you'd all have a quiet week to just recoup and adjust, but that's not the way of things.  There will be a parade of well wishers and tribute payers, people who really want to get to know you and people who just like to hug babies.  It's all good.  They're all good.  Buy into the entertainment value and network a little.
     Heads up, though.  Your Mom may be in for a chemical mood storm in a couple of days.  It affects some Moms pretty bad.  Do what you can to help her through it.  You've got some pretty powerful tools at your disposal.  Try this:  Look as far into her eyes as you possibly can, and report back to me what you see there.     Sometimes you have to stare, or squint, or really focus, but what you'll find is magical.  And the more you search, the quicker and more thoroughly she'll heal.  I've seen it.
     Forgive your folks if they lapse for a moment here and there, forgetting that your needs come first.  Nobody is 24/7 totally on task strong. I'm guessing that your household won't need much reminding, but when they do, be gentle.
     Well, on your second day, try and experience something entirely different.  Know that I'm thinking of you and yours, and that I'd be right there with you instead of sitting here all hermitty comfy, watching the snow build with a hot breakfast in my belly and my feet on a warm dog, except that there are serious, serious deeds here needing tending.  Ahem.
     I'll write now and then.  You do the same.  K
   
   
   

Dear Nora

Dear Nora: While you're waiting, I thought I'd share some thoughts on this birthing thing. I know. You didn't ask. But I've met most of your extended family, and unsolicited advice is going to be part of your life. Don't worry, you'll learn techniques to deal with it.
      First of all, congrats on how you've handled your job thus far. Your growth has been phenomenal. Parent training regimens are coming along swimmingly. I want you to know that people are noticing and commenting on your progress, impressed when you busted a few playful dance moves. Keep up the effort and great attitude.
      Next, I want you to understand that punctuality in birthing is way over rated. Don't let anybody pressure you into anything you are not ready for, but fashionably late for no reason can cause people anxiously waiting to become explosive. But no worries, "failure to launch" discussion doesn't begin until you're like..., ten. You'll know when the time is right. "Due" is on you.
      Put some thought into how this will go down. Not to pressure you (sorry), but there are landmark events (birth, wedding, certificates) that will create the short summary of your life in the minds of those who don't know you well. Not that others will define you (you'll do that), but trends we set early sometimes carry all the way through. For example: My mother tells me we made three trips to the hospital before I made the big move (Can't verify, slept since then.), and folks think I'm STILL pretty indecisive.
      There will be records of your birth; digital, administrative, and imprinted memories among those who will be in the room. Unless you want "She came into the world waving at the crowds!" following you through life, don't do that. Just sayin.
      The birth process itself is undignified. What was naturally a private moment with your mother is now a full blown spectacle in a "birthing" room, with you in your birthday suit, tired, slimy, deformed and probably a little ticked off, being handled and polished, fondled and inspected, wrapped and braceletted, and possibly stabbed and microchipped (kidding, geez!).  That's just the way it is.  Deal with it. Go to the light, breathe, and endure.  You'll be fine.  They don't know how tough you are. 
      I've got to tell you, the setup you're coming into is pretty sweet.  The folks want you.  Really, really want you.  They put a lot of effort and resources into getting you here.  There's a reason they're celebrating. That's certainly not the case for many (most?) newbies.  You'll never be hungry in a serious way.  You'll get primo medical care.  You'll probably dance and laugh and learn a lot.  Lucky.
      So.  Be tolerant of all the gooey talk and smothering hugs and kisses.  Don't roll your eyes.  Don't discourage the fussing.  Wear the silly footies and diapers and frilliness knowing they all mean well and will not love you to actual death.  You'll settle in soon, and come to know who you are and to what purpose you will serve.  This new baby thing doesn't last long.  Not long at all.  Enjoy it. 
      So, welcome.  We'll meet soon.  I'm already proud we're associated, and I'll write occasionally.  You do the same. K
     

Nosepicker's Revenge

     I know a guy who told his sister that he couldn't believe he had seen her on national TV (at a baseball game) picking her nose. He was embarrassed for her and the family. He seldom joked, so she bought in and stayed up half the night playing the game back frame by frame. She and her nose were never on camera. So she plotted.
     Months later, she casually threw out the idea that I might have some relatives coming the next summer from Europe. A month after that, she went into more detail. The visitors were young, female, and would be traveling across the southern tier of states, coast to coast. (He was young, single, and living in Las Cruces at the time.)
     She let the idea simmer for a dozen weeks, then said they were definitely coming, had sent pictures of two very pretty adventurous girls, and that they would like to meet if schedules could be adjusted.
Just a week into March, she told him the girls were coming at the end of the month, and work being what it was, nobody was able to drive down to meet them on the only day they would be traveling through. She told her brother that she had given the girls his number, and would he mind just taking them out to dinner or show them around for an afternoon?
     He called his mother and complained that his sister would share his number with strangers, and expect him to entertain them. But, of course, he didn't turn the phone off.
Then the sister did the most bizarre thing. She got her friend to fake a Dutch accent (who knows what that really sounds like?), and call her brother. I heard the call. It was the worst performance I've ever seen. Botched completely. A conglomeration of Jamaican, French, and English English. She giggled the whole time, which, combined with his willing naivete, allowed her to pull it off, amazingly. Oh, and by the way, she managed to arrange a two night stay in his apartment to recharge from their travels.
       The brother spent the next days thoroughly cleaning his digs, stocking his fridge, and even bought a shirt. His roommate, who had a girlfriend, vacated.
Exhausted on the day the visit was arranged, he again called his mother to complain. "I haven't heard a word from anybody up North offering to help out with a little cash. I can't believe they are just dumping these people on me for the whole weekend!"
      His mother, who was not in on the joke, but knew her children, asked, "I know, I know, but... What day is this?"
     "It's Saturday! And I've got two midterms THIS WEEK!"
     Patiently, "Yes, but, what is the date?"
     "It's April firs...", then moaning, "APRIL FIRST!! She WOULDN'T! REALLY?? Aw fer cryin'...", and he hung up.
     The sister didn't answer her phone that day, but her brother received a message - Happy April 1st! Payback, Nosepicker.
     When they next got together, it was as if nothing had happened.