Ah, weekend, I'm so excited for you! Here are 10 fun picks for your consideration:

1. Grown up event alert: dust off your dancing shoes for this dance off. (Boston)

2. Explore how people used to measure the world pre-technology. (Cambridge)

3. Yay for more than 135 crafty exhibitors to peruse. (Wellesley)
4. Rock out with Ben Rudnick & Friends. (Brookline)

5. Get in the holiday spirit at this tree lighting. (Boston)

6. Talk turkey and make an eco-friendly Thanksgiving centerpiece. (Westport)

7. Meet some critters up close and personal. (Boston)

8. Cheer kids on (and, if you're like me, get a little nostalgic) while they rock the Rubik's Cube. (Boston)

9. Give props to this local mother/daughter book team. (Newburyport)

10. Enjoy a family-friendly musical brunch for brass instrument lovers. (Boston)

Image credit: Salvatore Vuono / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Today, Lindsey shares a local self-care gem (that is making my feet twitch in happy anticipation):

I am a runner with ache-y Achilles tendons and a (probably related) on-and-off case of plantar fasciitis. I have wanted to try reflexology for a long time: partially I am drawn to the concept of spots on the feet correlating with imbalances in the body, but mostly I love having my feet rubbed.
The other morning I approached Barefoot Reflexology in Watertown with both anticipation and slight nervousness. Despite a cheerful purple sign, the storefront is shrouded with curtains and you can't see in. Taking a deep breath, I swung open the door and was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. Let's just say the insides don't really match the outsides.

Barefoot Reflexology is bright and clean, and the staff is friendly. Within two minutes of walking in I was seated in a dim room with dividers between clients. My technician (Mary) immersed my feet in warm water that had rose petals floating in it. The fact that the water was in a plastic-bag lined plastic bucket was slightly odd, but I told myself it was probably to keep everything sanitary and I quickly stopped thinking about it at all. During the foot soak, Mary massaged my shoulders, neck, and arms. I was already sliding into a happy state of vague oblivion.

Next, Mary dried my feet and indicated that I should sit back on the recliner. The chair was padded, covered in clean white towels, and about the most comfortable chair I've ever sat in. For the next 45 minutes Mary massaged my feet, sometimes applying specific pressure to points on my feet but also just giving me an incredibly relaxing foot massage. She used unscented lotion and did not speak. The massage, the quiet music, the dim lighting, and the bed-like chair all combined so that within minutes I was drifting in and out of awareness.

The hour flew by. By the time Mary wrapped my feet in warm towels and patted my shoulder to tell me we were done, I was blissfully zoned out. I padded out of the treatment room, paid the exceptionally reasonable price ($35 for one hour), and floated home to my children, a far more relaxed and reasonable mom than I'd been before. I heartily recommend Barefoot Reflexology for anyone looking to relax and enjoy an hour focused entirely on you.

Image credit: healingdream / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

My little girl has her father's beautiful blue eyes. They're huge and deep and I can get sucked in to their gaze, either one of them. But she has my own father's eyesight.

My dad has always been able to see stuff I can't on the side of the road. Owls, eagles, deer, raccoons, cranes -- you name it, he points, I see nothing unless it's moving. And he's the one driving. 

"Look, Mommy, is that a boy deer or a girl deer?" she asked last night as we drove to the library. I tried to look and yet not rear-end the car in front of me. I saw nothing. 

"Um, did it have antlers?"

"No."

"Then it's probably a girl."

I focused on the road. 

"What's this time called again? Not dawn?"

"Dusk. Dusk is the time between when the sun sets and when it actually gets dark. Deer love dusk."

"Yeah, look -- there are three more."

I turned. I saw nothing. Except maybe my father.

Today, Carole Arsenault of Boston Baby Nurses shares baby first teeth basics:

When can you expect your baby's first teeth? Most babies get their first teeth between the ages of three and seven months old, although it is possible to get them earlier or even later than seven months. Teeth actually start to develop before birth as tooth buds form in the gums, but your baby's teeth will start to break through one at a time throughout the first two years, typically in this order: bottom two middle, top two middle, side, and then back teeth. The last teeth to appear will be your baby's molars, which come in around two years old. By three your baby will have a full set of 20 baby teeth.
The symptoms that suggest your baby is cutting a tooth may include drooling, gum sensitivity, fussiness, and possible waking at night. Although it was once thought that babies who were teething could develop a fever or diarrhea as a direct result, this is no longer thought to be the case. Based on a recent study of 47 babies, there's no link between these types of serious symptoms around the time of a tooth eruption. As a result of the findings, researchers stress the importance of contacting a pediatrician if your baby experiences a fever or diarrhea, regardless of whether he is teething or not.

Unfortunately, teething can be uncomfortable for your baby, but a few of the following relief options may help ease the pain:

Teething rings. Purchase a few safe, non-toxic, and chemical-free teethers for your baby to put in her mouth. Two great options are the Haba Kringelring Wooden Teether or Natursutten Teether.

Frozen washcloth. Freeze a wet washcloth and let your baby chew on it. The cold will feel good on irritated gums.

Cold foods. If your baby is already eating solids, feed him/her cold foods such as frozen yogurt or frozen fruit bars. (Cut into small bits depending on where your baby is at in the solid food exposure process.)

Pressure. Rub your baby's gum firmly with a clean finger for about five minutes -- the pressure will relieve some of the discomfort.

Infant pain relievers. Consult your pediatrician if your child is experiencing excessive discomfort. He or she may prescribe an infant pain reliever such as acetaminophen.

Good dental health matters right from the very start and cleaning your baby's teeth is simple. Just wipe the teeth with a damp washcloth once a day. It is fine to use a soft bristled baby toothbrush if you prefer but do not use toothpaste for the first year. After that you may begin to use training toothpaste appropriate for your child's age. Check with your pediatrician about when to make your baby's first dentist appointment -- most recommend one around age three but may suggest even sooner.

Image credit: photostock / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Raising a child has given me a different perspective on genetics than I once had. As a young adult, I was convinced that we are all a product of our environment. Now I'm not so sure. My daughter's personality started emerging very, very early. One thing I noticed right off the bat was her empathy -- she started patting crying babies in daycare from the time she was nine months old, I was told by her teachers. I don't think we taught her that quite so fast.

My major in college was communications studies and my minor was human relations, but I remember little about what I learned except that I'm fascinated by how people communicate with each other and which barriers stand in our way as we try to relate to one another. We all have our shit: some of us are shy, some of us are pessimists, some of us struggle with nonverbal cues and some of us struggle with empathy. I thought this article talking about the kindness gene was interesting -- the researchers had one person describe something sad to another and the observers watched with the sound off, then rated the kindness of the listener:

People in the study were tested beforehand and found to have GG, AG or AA genotypes for the rs53576 DNA sequence of the oxytocin receptor (OXTR) gene.

People who have two copies of the G allele are generally judged as more empathetic, trusting and loving.

Those with AG or AA genotypes tend to say they feel less positive overall, and feel less parental sensitivity. Previous research has shown they also may have a higher risk of autism.

Another study said there's a reason we can spot kindness in each other -- those who are more kind are better equipped to help the group survive:

From a scientific perspective, Fowler added, these findings suggest the fascinating possibility that the process of contagion may have contributed to the evolution of cooperation: Groups with altruists in them will be more altruistic as a whole and more likely to survive than selfish groups.

The combination of these studies left me thinking about kindness and behavior. The second study basically said any kind of behavior can be contagious -- I extrapolated that to be that moods rub off. We behave like those with whom we hang, which then reminded me of the starling murmurations video. 

I'm going to attempt to emit kindness today and see where that takes me.

While I was en route to California this past weekend, I was so happy to have some quiet time to read through more of the Boston Mamas survey comments. Among the responses was a question that fit well both for the Dear Boston Mamas column, and given that I just guest posted at Rookie Moms about what I have learned in having a second child. Of course, a lot of the below would apply to 2+ children as well; if you have additional thoughts to share, feel free to do so in the comments!

Question: How is life with two kids? We are expecting #2 and I know it will be different but how? How are you managing? Is baby #2 on a schedule or on older child's schedule?

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Dear Lovely Reader:

Obviously, not every day of parenting is easy, but in general, I will say that I have been amazed by how wonderful life with two kids is. After several years of struggling with infertility, I finally made my peace with being a family of three. After which point of course I got pregnant. But from the very beginning Violet has felt as if she belongs with us. We feel so blessed.

It also has been excellent to experience parenting through a new lens; specifically, that of a laid back, experienced parent. I know it's not the same for everyone, but I have heard many people comment that subsequent kids are more laid back because their parents are more laid back, and this certainly has been the case for us.

Now, to address your questions about logistics: adding a new person to a family does, of course, involve adjustment. Here is how our transition has shaken out:

Morning routine: The period immediately coming home was the most chaotic, particularly since school was in session for Laurel and we still needed to be organized enough to get lunches together, keep on top of homework, and so forth. Since I was nursing and thus up with Violet quite a bit during the night, we simply decided that Jon would be the point person for Laurel in the morning. If I got up and could help, it was a bonus, but otherwise, Jon was on point to negotiate breakfast, finish Laurel's lunch packing (to cut down on morning chaos we assemble most of it the night before), handle the dreaded hair combing (admittedly, many days during that period of time it was rather nest-like...), make sure Laurel brushed her teeth, and get her off to school. Gradually, however, I was able to get back to helping, and now we're all up at pretty much the same time so it works out fine. Violet usually crawls around and pulls up on Laurel's chair while we take care of the morning routine.

During the day -- sleeping: This time around we're totally not worrying about watching the clock and sticking Violet to a sleep schedule, and it's been interesting to see Violet fall into a pattern naturally. In general, she's now up between 6:30am - 7:30pm and takes two naps during the day (like Laurel, she's a short napper -- usually just 45 minutes or so each time). But instead of trying to force naps on the clock, we wait until she's tired or just falls asleep (e.g., in stroller). It's so much easier and it's been great to put an awake but drowsy baby in the crib, walk away, and have her fall asleep on her own!

During the day -- eating: While we are very flexible about Violet's napping, the one thing I do try to pay attention to is her eating schedule. Because rather like me, Violet is much more affected in the cranky department by hunger than fatigue! Also, I found that the scheduling/details got a little more complicated when Violet started solids and I needed to keep track of what she was eating (to keep an eye out for allergies) and how to fit in solid feedings with nursing. Regarding suggested food process and schedule, I have found HappyBaby: The Organic Guide to Baby's First 24 Months (which was sent to me by the company) super helpful. And now that we're a couple of months into solid foods and we're on to real meals (vs. little bits of solids simply for exposure), we're now happily in a rhythm where Violet has solid foods at regular mealtimes and breastmilk first thing in the morning, as between-meal snacks, and at bedtime. Basically, it's easier to remember when to feed her because her solid food intake generally corresponds to our mealtimes!

Bedtime: One of the more challenging elements for us at the beginning was the end of the day. Pre-Violet, we used to put Laurel to bed and then the rest of the evening would be time for Jon and me to connect or for both of us to catch up on home and work matters. Early on Violet napped more during the day and was very awake during the window between Laurel and our bedtimes so Jon and I felt rather lacking in downtime. However, in the last couple of months, Violet has fallen into a pattern where she is ready to call it a night right around Laurel's bedtime. That has been quite lovely!

How the two kids' schedules intersect: Another major reason we don't fret over Violet's sleep schedule is because we have an elementary school aged kid with fixed things such as soccer practice or birthday parties or playdates on her schedule. Often times, Violet is a companion to many of Laurel's events -- we don't worry about the napping element (she tends to just fall asleep if she needs to on the go), but I do make sure I bring along food for her if we're going to be out during a meal. Also, I'm still nursing, so we always have extra nourishment at the ready if need be.

Every family system varies, and I would suggest that the most important thing to remember at the beginning is that yes, some days will be really, really hard, but that you will fall into a routine eventually and things will get easier. Good luck and let me know if you have any other questions!

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Image credit: Christine Koh (those are Laurel and Violet's feet!)

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Have a question for Christine? Drop her a line! And of course feel free to comment in if you have recommendations beyond those made above.

No, not really. I'm writing this because I'm caught today in something of a 65-degree-long-bike-ride Sunday lethargic Monday. Why is it not still Sunday? 

Also, I started pinning things on Pinterest. I am not a design gal, nor do I have any fashion sense. I'm not really crafty. But I decided I would pin stuff that I find when I am doing my job that are awesome for one reason or another. I get nothing out of it if you look, but I'm telling you about it anyway because honestly, I can't think of anything else to say and wanted to move on with a new week on this blog. Huzzah! Check out the guy who made a giant portrait of Martin Luther King, Jr. entirely out of Rubik's cubes, thoughts on writing from Ira Glass and more.

Hello everyone -- apologies for the radio silence! I considered posting from the road but decided to be present and immerse myself in Camp Mighty. It was a wonderful trip, not only for personal/professional reflection and connection, but also to witness and be a part of awesome change. Thanks to the fundraising efforts by Camp Mighty attendees, plus a donation from the Ace Hotel (amazing, btw, if you find yourself in Palm Springs), we raised $25,000 for charity: water, which translates to clean water for 1,250 people. AMAZING. I'm now in recovery mode with work and home matters, but meanwhile, here are some fun ideas to consider in this week's Weekly Blueprint:
November 16: I'm fairly certain these gingerbread men will be caught and eaten.

November 18: Lace up. Skating opens at Frog Pond.

November 18: Lace up again. Winter skating opens at Patriot Place.

At your leisure: Start chipping away at homemade holiday gifts. My friend Gabrielle has a lovely sibling gift tradition with lots of project ideas -- these could be used for any family members.

At your leisure: Paint some pottery. Related to above, Laurel loves painting pottery for holiday gifts. The functional items such as coffee mugs and plates are always a huge hit!

At your leisure: I love Thanksgiving. Check out last year's episode of Life.Style (or simply the associated link wrap) for decor, recipe, and travel toy ideas.

At your leisure: Make a big batch of magic salt -- perfect for all of the cooking coming up this holiday season and great for giving as gifts. We've gifted this salt to family and friends who say that it's now the only salt they use!

At your leisure: Try a new recipe. I made Santa Rosa Valley Salad last night (super, super yum), and plan on making one or both of these spinach dishes this week.

Image credit: felt ice skate ornaments by recycledparts via Etsy

I was just looking at Twitter and saw a link to Alison Gresik's post on the night she almost went crazy. I wasn't planning to post today, but then I read this:

We were nearly home when I tried to make up for how pissy I’d been. This is not about you, it’s about me, I said.

And that’s when Shawn got really angry.

How dare you get this upset and then say it’s not about me? It’s impossible for me to tell the difference, and it’ll certainly be impossible for a child to tell the difference. You can’t keep doing this.

She goes on to explain how her brain took that and spiraled it into suicidal thinking, and then the next morning pulled it together to face a challenge that to someone not afflicted with mental illness might seem like nothing: taking a broken car to a mechanic.

I understand.

Last week in the midst of all the Hillary Adams beating post comments, I felt my anxiety starting to rev out of control. I had just a visceral reaction to that video. I also have noticed that since I went off The Pill a few years ago that my moods are getting more extreme at times, more like they were when I was in high school and college. 

The morning after I put up the post, I took Petunia to the vet. Petunia hates the vet. She got wrapped in a towel there once when I wasn't there and ever since then she needs to be sedated to go and will still hiss and try to bite anyone, even me, who approaches her when she's there. She has to wear a bonnet that keeps her from being able to see or bite, and even so, she tries to bite. The vet is trying to desensitize her, so she sat and talked to me for what felt like hours while Petunia trembled and growled and hissed in my arms. Finally, she started talking to me about cleaning Petunia's teeth and the anxiety peaked and I started to cry. I wasn't making any noise, but the hot tears were just rushing down my cheeks and there was nothing, NOTHING I could do about it. 

"You're really upset, aren't you?" the vet asked. 

"I've had a hard week. I'd like to go home." I thought about trying to explain anything to this woman and realized it would be pointless. I knew it would be a while before I could stop crying, even as I understood intellectually that I wasn't really that upset about cleaning Petunia's teeth or even Hillary Adams, who is now 23 and years removed from that horrifying beating. Hillary Adams was a trigger, Petunia's growling was a trigger, just in the past Hurricane Katrina and 9/11 and my daughter's conference with her talented and gifted teacher in which the same tears ran down my face as I asked the teacher to let me know if she sensed too much perfectionism in my daughter, that perfectionism went with anxiety and eating disorders for me and I really hoped my girl wouldn't ever sit in front of a kind teacher who doesn't really know her and embarrass herself by bawling when nothing at all is wrong.

That's the thing, though -- when you have anxiety, nothing need be wrong. Life itself can feel pretty insurmountable, even as you recognize there is nothing wrong. Cats go to vets, cars need to be fixed -- it's not the end of the world. 

But the part of Alison's post that really got me was the part about husbands and kids not being able to tell the difference between your being mad at them or at yourself or at nothing at all but displaying this emotion that makes no sense. I've tried to insulate my daughter as much as I can from my anxiety, but when you live with people, it can be hard. Especially when you're alone with them as much as I'm alone with my girl. As a result of seeing me cry sometimes for no reason and telling her hey, it's not you, I'm  just sad and sometimes I get sad and I don't know why, hold on, I'll stop in a minute, I hope she is kind to herself if she ever cries for no reason. I want to make the world perfect for her but I know that I can't and actually I shouldn't, because if I did, she wouldn't know her own strength. She wouldn't learn to self-soothe. Just as I would tell her these things if I had a twitch or Turret's or some other behavior I couldn't necessarily control that might look alarming. 

I've stopped beating myself up for irrational crying. It doesn't happen every day -- it doesn't happen now as often as it did when she was a baby and I was really messed up. When it happens, I try to do things I know will help. I sleep. I exercise really hard. I write. I read a lot. I take hot baths. And I let myself cry, because it does seem like there's something in there that needs to get flushed, and maybe the crying flushes it. Often I'll feel perfectly fine hours later and I know that is confusing to the people around me. The truth is that when that sort of crying or anger happens, it's not actually based on anything other than my brain. It's different from when I cry because something someone dies or because I know I hurt someone. I make noise when I cry like that. This crying -- it's just like a faucet. 

The vet's office manager called the next day to see if Petunia was okay and if I was okay. She's a nice person and I saw on her face and the vet's face that they thought something horrible had happened to me to cause such a reaction. I don't really want to get into it. I wish I hadn't had to take Petunia to the vet when I knew I was in high gear. But life doesn't stop just because you're anxious. I don't think it should. In order to have faith in myself that I am okay, I have to get in the car and take the cat to the vet even if I'm crying. I have to make my daughter dinner and do the laundry and go to work. And because I still do all those things, because I know the difference between real sadness and anxiety sadness, I feel okay about it. I know people in my life think I should get stronger drugs or go see a therapist again, but the truth is that it passes, I don't want to hurt myself or others, I know how to care for myself and I'm learning not to drag other people into my anxiety when it's happening -- it's best to go in a room and let it go, just like a headache or other type of chronic pain. People with mental illness live like this, just like people with diabetes live like this. You manage the pain. You take care of yourself as best you can. And you try not to freak out when it escalates -- you manage it back to a safe level. It's possible my antidepressant needs to be adjusted, and I can look into that, but here's the thing: There isn't a magic pill that I'll take that will make me wake up tomorrow with anyone else's brain. It will be my brain that will still try its old tricks and maybe we can stop a few more of the downloads of chemicals from coming through, but it will still try. There might be a pill that helps a little more, but we're managing this, not fixing it, and that is okay. I don't expect to never cry for no reason again. I expect to be able to cope effectively with it when I do and to make it stop as soon as possible.

I can't always control my triggers or my reactions, but I want the people I love to know I'm okay and I love them, but I don't know that I can be "fixed." I can manage this, and I'm trying very hard.