Okay, what I really want to do is shake them quite a bit until their brains get loose enough so maybe a little air blows in and freshens up their thoughts. I’m talking about those with the “superiority-complex” that I wrote about earlier. I want to drill through their skull, just a tiny hole, to see if fluid has built up, obscuring their thought processes. And really what I wish would happen is that someone far superior than they are would come along and humble the shit out of them. It isn’t going to happen, most likely, because a truly superior person wouldn’t act in a condescending manner to them as they have done to others. But maybe, just maybe, the superiority-complexes of the world could be thwarted by the surprised sideways glance of the humble but brilliant of this world.

Actually, if a slap could wipe their self-satisfied grins off of their faces I would stand in the line to serve one up. (Oh yes, there would be a line forming.)

I realize that not everyone believes humility to be favorable. Arrogance can be attractive. It is false arrogance that I despise. And also arrogance that is so blinding that nothing and no one else deserves respect. Yep, that ticks me off.

In my adult life I have been surprised to find groups of people who act in a way that I associate with “high school.” I don’t know why it surprises me. I’ve seen it often enough. But the exclusionary tactics and condescension towards others leaves me feeling sorry for them because if they can’t see beyond what they perceive as their own greatness how will they ever become anything more than what they already are?

Maybe, for some, it is something to learn with age. Lately, the few I’ve seen who have this attitude about themselves in the extreme are quite young still. Though there are always those who will never lose their superiority-complex.

Perhaps it is more strange that a few months in isolation with my better half and my new offspring helped me to forget that such people exist out there.

She’s in the 90th percentile for length and the 50th percentile for weight; that makes for a long, lean baby. And more importantly she’s healthy.

She had a crying jag at the doctor’s office on Friday possibly caused by actually “seeing” the doctor’s facial hair. The last time she saw him was a few days after birth. Though the more likely theory floating around the house is that she was tired since her appointment was right in the middle of her “night-time” (7-8 hours) sleep pattern at 1:30 in the afternoon.

It doesn’t seem strange to us that our daughter would adopt a counter-societal sleep pattern. In California, both hubby and I had some night jobs, on-call jobs, and hardly any 9-5 jobs to speak of, so we were used to strange sleep patterns. Up here in the eastern part of the Pacific Northwest, however, it is difficult to maintain that lifestyle. There are very few 24 hour stores or restaurants. And very little to do after 9 or 10 at night anyway. Basically there is no pay off to staying up all night and sleeping all day.

Of course, our little girl could care less either way, so long as her needs are met. And we’ve been meeting them, of course.

I’ve been reading about different parenting approaches, namely scheduled and on-demand parentling. They sound like what they are: setting a schedule and keeping your baby to it (like waking her up for feedings and so on) or following your baby’s needs for things like feedings and meeting those needs when they are demanded from the child. So far, we’ve been an on-demand household. We’ve had the luxury of not having traditional jobs to pull us away and enforce a schedule. But, now I do have a bit of a schedule to keep and responsibilities outside of the home. So, things are changing somewhat.

I’ve read what people say for and against both parenting approaches and mainly I don’t much care for other opinions. I much rather trust myself and my ability to read my daughter’s needs. So, we will likely end up somewhere in the middle of the two approaches, setting (hopefully) a sleeping schedule for the actual night and letting her show us the way during her day. This may not work out perfectly, but we will see how it goes.

Today, to break up the afternoon, we took a walk in the brisk air. As the temperature was in the low- to mid-thirties, we were bundled up.

We are under seige, or so it seems. Really my husband and I are struggling with our lack of sleep and taking it out on each other. The culprit is our adorable baby who is simply getting used to life still and such things as sleep patterns. We, on the other hand, are older and set in our ways and find it hard to handle the brief naps and split shifts that we’ve managed for the past week or so while I’ve been back at school, teaching and learning.

It is usually the crankiness of exhaustion that fuels our bitter tongues, blaming the other for everything including the blindingly bright sun that shone today. But in our saner moments, when we’ve had more rest and time to gain perspective, we do apologize.

I wonder how long this cycle will last of acrimony and apology. I wonder how long we will last in the cycle, and if it will break before it breaks us.

During the wee hours of the morning, when the sky was still dark and the neighborhood was quiet, when all in the house were asleep except for me, I quietly assembled the device. Some components were small attaching to some that were large. I attached the power source and connected the tubing. I tested all of the connections for tightness. Then I attached the device to my skin. A torture device.

Or so it seemed and yet it offered relief.

And I quickly realized that I must be one strange duck to have such a cinematic, spy-like experience while getting ready to pump breast milk.