11.27.06
Yin & Yang
Looking for pregnacy news? See the post Kicking ‘n Screaming.
My husband keeps taking pictures and saying “you can put this in your blog.” I keep telling him to write his own blog. But, to keep a happy marriage, I’m going to oblige him from time to time and post some of his pictures.
Today’s picture is titled Yin & Yang. Sorry. No commentary on the forces of water and fire or feminine and masculine in constant, balanced opposition. The quick story is that we put a plastic mason jar lid on the floor of the bird cage with seed in it for the little chicks. For some reason the chicks like to sleep in the lid on top of the seeds. Whatever. Normally, they slept with their heads in the same direction, but my husband happened to catch them in this position and managed to get a picture.
This picture is a few days old, and the chicks are no longer small enough to sleep in the lid, but they still try some times. The older chick is flying now and is almost a full fledged parakeet, though he still tries to get his dad to feed him. The younger chick has started flapping his wings wildly and climbing the ladder. He should be flying in a couple of days.
The sad part about the chicks growing up is that they no longer like to be held while hand-feed chunks of fruit. I’ve actually enjoyed holding and feeding them and had started to get attached. Now that they don’t want to be held any more and are almost grown, I’m afraid that I will no longer be interested in them. They will become adult parakeets with absolutely no interest in me other than as a source of bird seed. We will have had less then a month of bonding, so it could be fairly easy to give the two young ones away. Any takers?
Fortunately, human babies stay interested in their parents for at least 5 years, 10 if the parents are lucky. After that, their friends and personal life are more important. But those initial years of having all life revolve around family can supply the time to build the mutually desired bonds that tie families together for life. If I’m lucky, my future children will be the kind of people who enjoy spending time with family but also want to move out and have their own lives as adults.
11.23.06
Kicking ‘n Screaming
If you haven’t heard yet, I am pregnant with my first child. Several weeks ago, my husband asked me how big the baby was. I told him the embryo was about the size of a Brazil nut. We’ve both been calling it a Brazil nut ever since. I’ll admit it’s not the best reference term, but it is better than “monster,” which is what one of my brothers and his wife called their second child after she was born. Supposedly, they thought her grunting sounds were like those of a Sesame Street monster.
So I had an ultrasound yesterday to make sure that everything is okay with the Brazil nut. There were the typical comments about how cute the pixelated black and white image was and how fast the fetus moved, to which I responded, “good thing our yard is fenced.” A few jokes later and we were laughing pretty hard, which makes ultrasound imaging difficult. When I stopped laughing enough for the technician to proceed, it appeared the baby was laughing too. The still image below doesn’t do it justice, but you get the idea.
We were also able to determine that the baby is probably a boy, which is a good thing since I’ve been absentmindedly refering to him with masculine pronouns. Of course, after we determined his gender, he decided to show off his strength with a kick.
If you haven’t seen enough ultrasounds to know, the picture above is of his left foot.
Hmmm……If I’m this bad with ultrasound pictures, there is no hope for this child once he’s born. Then again, if his hyperactivity during the ultrasound is any indication, I might be so worn out from chasing him around that I won’t have time to post funny pictures.
11.16.06
Perhaps I Am Growing Up
Last weekend I went up to NH with my husband and his best friend, whom I will call Uncle Ken. When going to NH, it is obligatory that one goes on a hike or nature walk of some kind, regardless of the season, so we went to Crawford Notch State Park.
I didn’t really feel like hiking, so I figured that we’d just walk far enough to see the Dry River, then turn around a come back. After all, I’m 4 months pregnant and my balance is a little off. I didn’t want to do any real trail hiking and risk having to be carried out of there after tripping over my own feet.
About a half a mile in, we saw this sign:
Now if you’re like me (and I think we’ve established that I know I am) when you see a sign like this, your first thought is, “I’ve got to go cross that bridge!” So we looked at the map and figured that the first river crossing was another two miles away. We weren’t sure that the first crossing would have the bridge, but I wanted to take the chance. The boys humored me, and we were off.
Thankfully, Uncle Ken had brought hiking poles and I was able to use them to keep my balance on the slippery and steep parts of the trail. No pictures of those parts, but we did get this picture of the not-so-dry Dry River.
When we got to the bridge, we saw another ATTENTION sign, but this one was slightly different.
Not sure if you can read the fine print, but this sign says that a person entering the bridge can be fined up to $5000 and spend up to 6 months in prison. What? $5000 for using a dangerous bridge? That’s something that never happens to Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, and those bridges were a lot more dangerous looking! Then again, this bridge goes out while you are on it and if you’re lucky you get life-flighted to the nearest real hospital. If you’re not, you end up in the news as a tragic story a few days later. I guess that merits a $5000 fine.
Now, ten years ago, a sign like that would only have encouraged me to cross the bridge. Don’t believe me? Take a look at this picture taken outside the Mt. Timpanogos Cave in UT.
Can’t read the sign in that picture? Let me type if for you. “RUNNING ENDANGERS LIVES.” What am I doing? The obvious. Running. Now before you go thinking the sign is crazy or that I am crazy, at the edge of the asphalt, there is a shear drop of probably 200 or more feet, and I have probably 20 yards of running space. There is also no one else around except for the friend who took the picture. And a nice shot it is, too. Both of my feet are in the air, making me appear to defy gravity in the instant it was taken. This friend should be a photo journalist.
Back to the topic of this post. I must be growing up, because when I saw the sign with the $5000 fine, I hesitated. Instead of crossing the bridge and having my husband take a picture of me in the middle of it, I settled for the picture below. Why? Was it the fear of being fined $5000 or spending 6 months in prison? Nah. I think it was because of the baby I carry. I have no problem exposing myself to calculated risks, but I just wasn’t willing to endanger this little life I have growing inside me. I have waited to long for a baby of my own.
11.15.06
Acceptable Frustration
I’ve decided that my husband actually enjoys being frustrated. Maybe it comes along with being an engineer. There must be some acceptable level of frustration in any task in order for it to be enjoyable.
Before the Zune, he had several different iPods each of which he sold via Craigslist (at least he told me he sold them). Last year, he bought a video iPod for me as a birthday present, and pre-loaded it for me with all sorts of things. (My favorite was a home video of him telling me happy birthday, which I won’t let him erase.) Apparently, the iPod wasn’t enough of a challenge for him. That’s why he wanted a Zune.
When things work too well, he has nothing to “do.” Nothing to fix. But give him a Zune and he is in heaven. The constant discovery of how the black box works is what excites him. The Zune software freezes…just reboot and try again. Can’t delete a file from the Zune software? Just delete it from the computer hard drive so the Zune can’t find it any more. It’s figuring out all the tricks and work-arounds that makes him happy.
Fortunately, I have a little of that need for frustration too. Probably one of the reasons my husband and I get along so well. I like solving problems. Being stumped for a while gets my brain going, and I love the satisfaction I feel when I overcome the intellectual obstacle. When I think of how boring life would be if there were no problems to solve, I am happy to have some problems that I will never be able to solve. They give me something to think about.
Problems I can’t solve, but I like thinking about? Just how big is the universe, and how many other planets out there have life? What will the world be like in 20 years? Is it possible to improve public education in the US in general, or can it only happen one school or one teacher at a time?
One of my current unsolvable problems that I’m not so happy about? If I believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ as taught by the doctrines of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) and my husband believes in God but not religion, will it be possible for us to be together forever after this life? Sometimes this question keeps me up at night. But, I know God loves me, He loves my husband, and we love each other. I have faith that because of all that love, God will be able to work something out.
11.14.06
Birthday Zune
This year, my husband shared his birthday with the Zune launch date, so of course he wanted one. Thanks to Amazon.com, it arrived home before he did today. By the time I got home from work, he already had the software installed (which took almost an hour after a couple of computer restarts). I had read the reviews and guessed we were in for a long night. Not that I would have any part in the process, but I knew my husband would insist on giving me the complete play by play as I made him a birthday dinner. (Sometimes I wonder whether having the computer within shouting distance of the kitchen is a blessing or a curse. Then again, the entire house is within shouting distance. I just wonder if the neighbors can hear.)
Two and a half hours after I arrived home, he was successful in finally getting the Zune software to recognize the device, and then quickly moved on to wireless, loading video, and other stuff. Fortunately, I know that in his mind, the installation and device recognition was akin to labor. Unpleasant but, after the excitement of getting it all to work, he’ll forget the pain and find nothing but joy in playing with his Zune.
A few things he learned in the Zune process: 1) To disconnect the Zune, you have to remove the cable from the Zune. Unplugging the USB end of the cable does zilch. 2) As with all Microsoft products, when it crashes, reboot the computer and things will probably work the next time around. 3) You don’t have to set up an ID for the Zune to get it to work.
As I said, he is happily playing now. It will probably be hours before he comes to bed. By the time I wake up, he’ll have loaded 29 of the 30 available gigs with movies, music, and random stuff. I give him a 50% chance of remembering to put a picture of his wife on it, unless he thinks of reading this post. Then I give him an 80% chance of remembering.
11.12.06
Listen to “What’s in a Number?”
Today on my way to church I heard some of This American Life on my local NPR station. I was so engrossed in the show, that I stayed in the car for an extra 10 or 15 minutes while the rain poured down. I finally tore myself away at the end of act 1 and listened to the rest via podcast. You can get the podcast here. (Not sure how long the link will work.)
The episode was entitled “What’s in a Number?” After listening to part of this show, I felt closer to the war than I have with any media story I’ve heard to date. I try really hard to stay out of any political debate. I’ve manage to stay out of the debate on the war. I never feel that I have enough information to really have an informed opinion. I have thoughts, but I wouldn’t want to sway anyone’s opinion based on my own flawed and incomplete information. However, I also believe that facts should be shared.
I had read about the study of civilians estimated to have died during the war in Iraq overseen by John Hopkins University. It turns out that two studies were performed, one in 2004 and one in 2006. Both studies were published in the Lancet and have been scrutinized for scientific accuracy and errors. From what I have heard of the two studies, they are scientifically sound, but invite more questions than they answer. As someone who tends to trust science more than media, especially media coming out of a war zone, I think everyone should be aware of both studies.
This podcast is a powerful telling of the human cost of war.
Separation and Reunion
The baby birds are still growing and doing fine (pictures below). The parents, on the other hand, are having issues.
The bigger chick is 1 week old in this picture and has a full crop. As usual, it is covering the head of the 3-day-old chick to help keep it warm.
Here the chicks are 2-1/2 weeks and 2 weeks old. They look like turkies, but I think it’s just a phase.
We had separated the two adult male parakeets from the mom, Condor, and her babies because she was preventing the males from consuming any food. She was so distracted by protecting the food source that she would forget which little chick she had feed and would go back to feeding the larger one. The smaller, younger baby was being somewhat neglected, and my husband and I were worried, so we separated the adults.
Now the older bird is at the point that it needs to be feed by the father rather than the mother. Amazingly, in parakeets, the mother feeds the young for the first couple of weeks, then the father feeds them for the following two weeks until they can eat on their own. This is because the mother feeds the young a substance called “crop milk.” The father then feeds the young a less digested form of regurgitated food that he also feeds the mother while she is nesting.
So, today we moved Condor and the babies into the larger cage with the other males. We hoped that by moving her into their space, she would be less protective of the food and they would all be able support the young. All seemed fine at first. The adults all hung out at the top of the cage, and the babies, now large enough to keep themselves warm during the day, were in the nesting box at the bottom. About 10 minutes in, the father, R2-D2, started doing his duty and feed the larger, older baby. All fine right? Wrong.
Condor and R2-D2 started fighting over the rights to feed and protect the babies. Flapping wings, chasing each other around the cage, and pecking at each other. No one was hurt, but the fighting was intense. They have settled down now. Condor is nesting with the babies at night, but I’m sure there will continue to be incidents. We may have to separate them again, but for now, we will leave them reunited as a family. Perhaps this is just a typical internal family squabble like those that happen in any typical human family. I’ve always said that my immediate family (parents and siblings) is proportionately dysfunctional to any typical family, based on the number of family members. If this dysfunction carries over to bird flocks, then I’m sure the babies will be just fine.
11.07.06
Birds and Babies
When I meet my husband, he had three parakeets. I did the pet thing while growing up and in college. (In fact, I probably had more pets while in college than most people have during a life time. But the rattlesnake is a story for another day.) I don’t object to his birds, but I haven’t had much interest in them until now.
The female parakeet, which my husband named Condor before he new it was a girl, recently laid several eggs and managed to get two of them to hatch. This happened once a few months ago, but she was clueless and didn’t know how to take care of the one chick that hatched. It couldn’t survive without her care and died within 24 hours. This time, it seems her instincts have kicked in, and she is mothering her little chicks with a passion.
Last weekend, the behavioral biologist in me kicked in, and I’ve been spending a lot of time just watching the birds. The behavior of the entire group has changed. Condor has taken charge with a vengeance and is now protecting the food source from all competition. Translation: she doesn’t let the other two adult birds eat unless they manage to sneak a few bites while she is fussing over her babes. She is also doing an excellent job taking care of her chicks. You wouldn’t believe how distended a baby parakeets crop can get when its mother is stuffing it with regurgitated food–I’m guessing the crop gets more than twice as large as the chick’s head, which is so over-sized that the bird can’t even hold it up for the first two weeks.
Condor’s dominatrix personality has gotten so out of hand that we had to invest in a second cage tonight. The other two adults, R2-D2 and Turkey Bird (I had nothing to do with naming them), were slowly starving, so we needed to separate them. The new cage is bigger, and once the babes are big enough to fend for themselves, Condor will be moved into the larger cage with the other birds. My husband seems to think that we will keep the kids, but I’m hoping to find them a good home, somewhere else.
The comforting part of all of this is that God has instilled maternal instincts into all of His creations. I just hope that mine kick in in time for me to care for my first born. Gestation periods in humans are longer than the three-week hatching time for parakeets, and I tend to think the emotional costs of screwing up with the first child are also much greater. Then again, I’m not an oldest child, so I don’t know.
On second thought, maybe I am. If I consider my biological mother, she did kind of screw up and lost me–well, gave me up for adoption. I was probably her first child. Though I’ve fared exponentially better than Condor’s first hatchling, I hope my biological mother is doing as well as Condor with any other children she may have had.
Oh, and did I mention that I’m currently gestating? Here’s to hoping that I do okay with my first born!
11.06.06
Introduction
If you were expecting something interesting, you may want to go somewhere else. Unless you happen to be just like me (and I know I am), you will probably view this blog as an eclectic array of random information. The only thread that holds it all together is that it is somehow related to my life.
I claim no expertise in any field other than my own personal experience. After all, what else could I be an expert in? That said, I promise to have opinions that change as I learn new information about the subject, thoughts that make me think more thoughts, and aspirations that cannot be realized in a single lifetime.
