We interrupt this blog silence

for a few superficial thoughts:

1. I actually can bond with other women over having babies the same age (and compatible parenting philosophies. Not the same mind you, but compatible). Exhibit A: Twelve completely unrelated pieces of trivia I shared with JD about my new mom-friend, E. JD seemed a bit puzzled that it all seemed completely incoherent until I reminded him that 2 women who barely know each other cooped up in a small apartment with 2 barely 2 year olds and 2 5 week old babies is not exactly the best set up for a deep conversation. Exhibit B: A Jew and a Mormon push their double strollers into the big grocery store together and decide to share a cart for convenience (no safe place to park the strollers in that neighborhood. Ah, the suburbs and people who can actually put their children into grocery carts and don't have to lug a full shopping cart behind them while they try not to run people over with the double stroller in front of them ...). We loaded up on beer, pork and chocolate and then split a loaf of French bread on the (uphill) walk home.

2. I met another woman with a newborn who (breast)feeds him every 3 hours on a schedule. He was contentedly sucking on a pacifier while we talked, and not even a "pediatrician-approved" soothie, but a real, old-fashioned, actually-stays-in-their-mouth piece of plastic. During our half hour conversation outside, I nursed the dumpling about 3 times for a few minutes each. She kept her shirt on and had a calm conversation. It makes me wonder if I am going out of my way to make things harder for myself. I mean, do I really think that I will get a healthier/happier/more confident son by nursing on demand? Or am I just too sleep-deprived to remember why we did it that way with the fusspot?

3. Exercise. I wish I could. I really do. It would help with my mood, help with looking a bit more normal, etc. Except that I only have 30 hours of daycare for the fusspot and I need to work all of that time (or at least nap/do laundry/cook/run errands). And while I use to take really long walks with the fusspot when she was a baby, I can't really do that with fusspot and dumpling in tow because either she wants to walk, in which case we proceed at a pace close to a mile per decade, or he wakes up and needs to nurse and then I have to find someplace safe to contain her/a snack for her/and the whole trip devolves into crisis management. Suggestions welcome (but don't suggest an exercise video: we don't even have a TV, let alone enough open floor space to stretch and no, I don't have money for a gym membership in the city. A gym with babysitting starts at about $120 per month around here).

4. My post-partum check-up is in the morning. Expect more thoughts on birth control soon. The current consensus here (and pre-tomorrow's trite admonitions) is to play Russian Roulette and presume that I am plenty infertile enough to keep us safe. But maybe that's just sleep deprivation/laziness talking? And probably not the best strategy for the luckiest infertile in the world, after all.