And she's not even a teenager yet

When Elliot is cranky and/or doesn't get what she wants IMMEDIATELY and/or is being sooooo mistreated by being made to actually lie in her crib, she has taken to enjoying a little face gouging. Yes, I'm being literal. She actually claws at her own face with her own little pugdy hands in fitful, rageful acts of self harm.

Because of this, and because she likes to take a swing or two in our direction occasionally, we try to keep her fingernails short. But, even though we use teeny tiny baby nail clippers, she usually comes away from the ordeal with one or two bloody stumps where fingers once were.

The claw marks have healed now, but no one would tell us how beautiful our baby is if they saw her from certain angles when her hair is arranged a certain way. You see, our baby is experiencing a bit of hair loss, making her look like a geriatric resident of Comboverville:



Combine that with formula drool, tiny, beady, tired eyes and yellow scaly cradle cap on her head and eyebrows and you've got a baby who looks something like this. Isn't she delightful?

Baby in love

She can stare in her cotside mirror for hours, chattering away and batting at her reflection with the little, spastic arm that sometimes jerkily punches her square in the face. Captured in this photo is the ever-fabulous Elliot and the object of her affection.

She smiles!

Our sensitive and drop-dead serious little one has been perfecting the art of crying ever since the day after she was born. But, about a week or so ago, she has begun to deliberately smile.

I read that from about six weeks, babies start to socially smile and that the smiling grows more frequent with age. I hope that's true and that the crying lessens in frequency and strength as well because it's starting to do my head in - especially when she's just been fed, burped, changed, cuddled and held this way and that way and that other way and jiggled and lain down and picked up and put down again and propped up and shown a toy and given a pacifier and she's still crying and we have no idea on earth what the fuck to do.

No, really, I can't stop

Am I really one of those mothers who takes photos of her child every day and forces them on unsuspecting victims? This photo was taken yesterday on our way back from a waterfall we didn't get to see because the walkway to it was closed. Notice how she's registering her displeasure.

The many faces of baby

I can't really write about Elliot's personality at this time or funny things she has said and/or done because, as far as I can tell, she hasn't yet revealed a personality to me and she definitely hasn't said anything or done much more than sleep, shit and cry.

Since I can't write about much more than how many ounces of formula/breastmilk she drinks on an average day, how many times she has peed and pooed today, how great she smells or how I love to hold her, I'll just post some of the hundreds of photos I've taken recently. Isn't she precious?

Maybe we should have named her Precious Cookiepants like I suggested? Click on individual photos for greater detail.

Sleepy baby:



Stretching baby:



Sweet baby:



Waking baby:



Hungry baby:



Precious baby:



Sceptical baby:



Silly baby:



Baby possessed:



Confused baby:


Cute baby:



P.S. I keep meaning to finish the final blog entry about my hospital stay and Elliot's birth, but I can't seem to find the time (go figure!) and my deteriorated writing skills aren't doing justice to the experience of childbirth.

Introducing Elliot Grace Smith

I tried

Bureaucrat: Registration office

maarmie: Hi. I gave birth three weeks ago on Monday. My husband and I are having a hard time coming up with a name for our baby, and I was wondering if you give any extensions on that three-week time limit.

B: It depends. How long do you think you'll need to come up with a name.

m: Um. I really don't know.

B: Well, we can offer an extension but only a couple of days. It would have to be a good reason to give an extension.

m: Isn't not having a name a good reason?

B: No. Not really.

m: Oh. OK. Thanks.

Feb. 8, 10 p.m.

Thought I would have a day off but didn't. Had a tablet at about 9:45 a.m. Kept me in serious contractions all day that dilated me 2 cm and caused fluid to leak. Waters still not broken. Registrar did a sweep of the membranes but I freaked out, so she didn't do everything she had wanted to. Very painful. I'm sitting on my bed in the six-bed room, curtains pulled. Need privacy.

Scott Walker documentary on TV. Never heard of him, but he seems like a dark, tortured, twisted individual who takes himself way too seriously while having lots of fun. Talk about an outlet for your demons.

Hope that contractions continue even though they hurt. They're going to hook me up to oxytocin tomorrow and most likely break my waters.

Feb. 7, 4 p.m.

Thought I was in labor at 10:30 p.m. last night. Contractions off the Richter Scale - then nothing. Gave me inducement this morning. Stronger contractions today than yesterday, but cervix still posterior and closed. I hate internal examinations and contractions and walking the halls of this dingy hospital to keep upright and moving. When will it end? All around me, women are having their babies. My body is cooperating only to the extent that I don't get a second inducement on any given day. I am 39 weeks plus 3 days and in the owie zone.

Feb. 6, 6 a.m.

Midwife came in at 6 a.m. doing more temperatures, blood pressure, fetal heart monitoring then did internal examination before putting the (inducing) tablet in. Breakfast of Rice Krispies and dry wheat roll. C* having breakfast now. Registrar bugging me about medical cards and passport/visa. Hm. Twinges in uterus like period cramps. "That's something, anyway," says midwife.

1:15 p.m.

Not giving me a second dose of the hormone. Contractions small but pretty regular with pain in back. See how it progresses. Hopefully, I'm underway.

Feb. 5, 9:45 p.m.

Bed 22 at Raigmore Hospital in Ward 10. It's a full house. C* just left 10 minutes ago. I'm scared. It's hot. Midwife has done fetal monitor and taken urine and blood pressure. Just changed channel from whale dissection on TV. Couldn't stand watching them pull out intestines. C* beat me at three games of backgammon before he left. Now I'm trying to entertain myself. I'll eat and watch TV.

Proud mama

Taken when you were nine days old

On the sixth day, she brought forth new life

The 12 days I just spent in the hospital had its ups and downs. The biggest "up" was that I got to go home with her:



But, before I could do that, I had to pay the price: five days of medically-generated on-and-off contractions, a 12-hour labor that was painful beyond belief and almost ended in a caesarian section and an incredible amount of sleep deprivation both before and, especially, after, the birth.

Miss no-name-as-of-yet baby had a rough and fitful first night at home last night. I'm assuming her tantrums were due to the strange surroundings she's found herself in as of late. After all, she was warm and cozy in my womb her entire life but was a week ago cruelly squeezed into this harsh world, bound by clothing, made to feel hunger and feed on her own, thrust into an incubator blindfolded under blue lights



and has now been brought into the entirely alien environment that is our home. I'm hoping her mood will level off with a bit of consistency.

I'll write more about the days leading up to the birth and the birth itself in future posts. I'm tired just now, though, and will leave you tonight with this photo I call "Love Feeding Love":

Ooh baby, baby

I check into the hospital tonight, and labor will be induced around 6 a.m. tomorrow. I am terrified on so many levels. What will the pain be like? What if something goes wrong? What if something bad happens to the baby? To me? What if I need an emergency C-section?

Beyond all the labor stuff, there's also the fear surrounding the baby itself. Will I be a good mother? Will I enjoy being a mother? Or will I quickly come to realize that I never should have had a child? That this is all some horrible mistake?

C* and I talked about all these things last night, me in tears for hours. All in all, what I was most sad about last night is that C* and I never got to have a traditional relationship. We haven't really had any significant time alone together. We haven't been able to travel, to go out and have fun. Overall, our relationship has been filled with really stressful situations that would tax even veteran couples. I'm constantly amazed that we're still together at all.

But together we are. And, soon, we will be three.

Too cute

The Boy: Are you positive the baby is a girl?

maarmie: No.

The Boy: So it could still be a boy?

maarmie: Yes.

The Boy: Well, what if the baby is born bald? Then how will you know if it's a boy or a girl?

maarmie: You don't tell if it's a boy or a girl by how much hair it has.

The Boy: How do you tell?

C*: What's the difference between boys and girls?

The Boy: Girls have long hair?

Names, names, names

How does anyone come up with a name for their child? I mean, this decision is going to likely stick with the kid for its whole life. I believe it will influence how the child is perceived and who the child ultimately becomes. That belief in mind, this is a huge decision to be made, and quick. We have to pick a name within three weeks of the baby's birth.

Because we've been told by two different ultrasound technicians that it's a girl, we've only really talked about girl names. For a long time, we were stuck on the name Hunter - after Hunter S. Thompson, the gonzo journalist who loved drugs and guns and died by making a new hole in his head with a bullet. Hm.....perhaps not the best start to give a kid?

Still, we love everything written by the guy, and we love the name. Loved the name? The charm is kind of wearing off. So, we've come up with a few more, some liked by both of us, some just by me.

Caitlin (both)
Camden (me)
Bronwyn (both)
Hunter (both)
Keegan (me)
Ainsley (me)
Bryn (me)
Dylan (both)
Rhys (me)
Elliot/Eliot (both)
Nieve (both)

Personally, I'd like to go with Caitlin Elliot Hunter Dylan Smith. Then, she can go by any of several kick-ass names, the one she favors the most. Is it considered child abuse to give a child so many?

We don't need no water

Click on any photo to get a better look

Last weekend, C*, The Boy and I tried to get some snowy mountain views on Cairngorm Mountain, but - because of the temperate winter weather this year - flooding closed the main road to the peak forcing us to turn back toward home.

In Inverness, the Ness River near our apartment has also seen some flooding. The islands, where C* and I like to walk and where Woody used to roam as well, have been closed for days. Once, the islands looked like this:





walking paths lit at night and dotted with benches and trash cans, just like a regular park. As far as I can tell, this is the main place people who live around here go to walk their dogs and to get some fresh air with their families or some exercise. Many of the walking paths are underwater right now, however, making the area look like this:



The banks of the river are spilling over as well, a somewhat regular occurrence, according to C*.





Perhaps the city should do something about this? Nah! City officials would rather spend a quarter of a million pounds on a 12-minute firework display in the middle of January than to, say, do anything that will actually benefit the city in any way.

That being said, here are a few other views near our home. This first one is the foot bridge we walk over to get to the grocery store. The cables that hold it in place are massive, but it still bounces up and down when a few people are crossing it at once. I have felt nauseous crossing this bridge more than once.



Here's a modern-day castle situated on a hill overlooking Inverness. I think the courthouse and police station are housed here. After every celebration in town, the whole side of this hill is littered with beer cans and alcohol bottles. People here litter like it's going out of style. Wait. It already did. A long time ago.



Here's the view looking toward the bridge that crosses through the center of town. See the snow-capped mountains in the far background? Nice.



And here's THE number one hotspot in Inverness, that business on the right with the lovely golden arches. Oddly enough (but not really) most of the litter you see on the streets and sidewalks is in the form of cups and wrappers from this shithole, the only business that regularly gets vandalized. Still, business here is always brisk. What can I say? They want their food, and they want it fast.

Mama mia!

As promised to a few of my friends, here's an updated photo of my big, fat gut. This is me at 36 1/2 weeks pregnant:



As you can see, it's not the cute little rounded baby hut it was just five short weeks ago. It has, instead, morphed into this watermelon-shaped, stretch-marked burden that is hard for me to haul around. If I don't start labor on my own in 2 1/2 weeks, I will be induced sometime between February 4 and 11, my 40th week. I thought I was beginning the slow descent into labor hell last night when my back started aching and my belly tightened for hours, but no deal. It's getting close, though. And I'm terrified.

Woody - 1997-2008

Woody was put to sleep last night after some kind of horrible internal rupture left him in severe shock and needing surgery that the vet on duty at midnight last night said he probably wouldn't make it through. I had terrible nightmares about Woody all night last night, and I'm not going to write any more about this now. Maybe some other time. Maybe never.

Rest in peace, Woody. You were a sweet dog.

First snow day

I put Woody in the back garden yesterday for some fresh air. When I went to retrieve him a couple of hours later, I was met with the first real snow of the winter.



It has snowed plenty elsewhere in the highlands this year, especially in higher elevations, but it hadn't yet snowed this much so near to the middle of town. The flakes were huge and fluffy and melted upon impact with the ground.



This first winter in north Scotland hasn't been at all as cold as I thought it would be. Sure there are days I never make it outside because I don't feel like putting on all the clothes necessary to keep me comfortable. But I thought the weather would be absolutely unbearable no matter what clothes I wore. I've experienced colder weather in New York State. Which is odd considering we're as north as mid to north Canada. I guess the Gulf Stream is at work, even in Inverness?

I never thought I'd say this

If Hillary is the Democratic nominee for the next president, I will not be voting for her. I always thought I'd vote for a liberal-leaning female no matter who it was. But Hillary? I'll pass.

I cast my absentee ballot for Kucinich, but it seems he's not going to be getting anywhere in this election. No one I vote for ever does.

On the horizon

I haven't been writing for a while because I haven't had anything to say, really, and we've had The Boy for the past week straight. The Boy got a Wii from his mom and her side of the family for Christmas, so we've been doing a lot of messing around on that. It has, at least, saved us from playing Monopoly twice a day like we've been doing in the past, but we've hardly touched the board games we got The Boy for Christmas. Board games. How old fashioned!

I'm getting my hair cut for the first time in six months today in preparation for the arrival of the little one. I'm thinking I won't have much time to do much of anything soon, so I'm trying to get myself in order as much as I can while I can. I'm going to be at the hospital three times a week until the baby comes taking prenatal and labor classes and going for a weekly scan to see how big this big bundle of joy is getting. The maternity nurse I've been dealing with already seems to think she'll be 8.5 to 9 pounds at birth. Lucky me.

C* and I have been acquiring all the things we need for the baby over the past few weeks. We've got a stroller, two car seats, clothing through 4 years of age (bought secondhand but in really great shape from a newspaper ad for £50), blankets, a baby sleeping bag, thermometers (body, room and bath), a baby bath, towels, washcloths, hooded robes, toys, hats, scratch mitts, socks, coats, shoes, breast pump, feeding bras, nursing pillow and changing mat. Whew! All that's really left to buy are all the lotions, wipes, creams and powders and a box to store it all in as well as a nightie, socks and a bathrobe for me to wear at the hospital.

Yes, the hospital.

It's looming on the near horizon. I'm 35 weeks pregnant come Monday. That means I could be delivering in as little as two weeks and as many as seven. Time to get my suitcase in order and figure out my delivery plan. I'm already thinking I won't be getting an epidural, that I can handle it without. We'll see when the first really strong contractions kick in. But this is the only baby I plan on having, and I want to remember, really remember, everything.

'Tis the season

C* and The Boy finished decorating the house for Christmas last weekend. They walked to the islands near our house and cut some holly branches from trees for the making of wreaths, C*'s first-ever attempt at wreath-making. The Boy and I both agree that C* definitely has what it takes to make money this way. The wreaths turned out better than I ever expected.

This one's on the outside of the front door:



And this one's on a wall in the living room:



The mantel of our (unfortunately) nonworking fireplace holds our Christmas cards:



And the artificial tree C* put up two weekends ago has piles of presents surrounding it:



Since The Boy doesn't read my blog, I can spill the beans about what Santa brought him this year: art supplies and board games. Since C* reads my blog, though, I can't say what he got. With a cap on spending set at £20, my choices were limited.

But Christmas isn't about what you give, I suppose. It's about the feelings behind the giving.

RADIOHEAD!

Radiohead is playing a concert at Glasgow Green next June. If infants get in free, it will be Hunter's first concert and my first in a very long time.

31 1/2 weeks and counting

I loves me some animules

Since the sun was out for the first time in more than a month Sunday, C*, The Boy and I went to the Black Isle Wildlife Park near Inverness for some animal fun. They had meercats, deer, wallabies, all kinds of ducks and birds - including owls, pigs, snakes, zebras, etc. Here are some photos, taken by my significant other.

Meercats:



A face only a mother could love:



The cutest rat I've ever seen:



His underdeveloped front legs are the cutest!



Deer are bigger than I thought:



Millions of ducks quacking for food around my legs:



Just chilling:



This big guy kept his distance:

Don't they have enough money?

Stumbling upon this ad for watches featuring George Clooney pushed me to write this post letting Americans know that plenty of actors and actresses who are famous in the U.S. jump at the chance to be in advertisements on this side of the ocean.

A few notable examples include Antonio Banderas for Marks & Spencer department store, Uma Thurman for some Lancome perfume and Nicole Kidman pushing some kind of brain-boosting video game.

I don't recall big stars like these pedalling products in the U.S. What gives?

Proof that there can exist a whole nation of people...

who need to go out and get themselves a fucking life:



From The Guardian, Dec. 1, 2007

The British teacher was freed after spending several days in jail for allowing one of her students, a child named Muhammad, name a teddy bear Muhammad - a crime in Muslim countries.