Entry 5:

Hi Martha,

Before we begin, I must point out a colossal error in one of my postings, for which I feel nothing but shame. A reader writes all the way from China to point out that there are no penguins in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, that they live in the Antarctic. A few more weeks home with me and Noa will grow up thinking pandas come from Brooklyn.

Now to the central question: How do I feel about child care? Leaving her with someone else at this point is unimaginable. But then so is not going back to work. It's not that I miss work quite yet, as in the location, the schedule, the sitting at a desk all day. But I do miss work, as in reporting and writing.

After a month of not writing, I've realized the instinct is pretty hard-wired. I find myself rewriting endings to children's books, extending the rhymes, thinking of sequels. Even while doing mundane tasks, like changing diapers, the instinct lives. Each day I think of a new name for that distinctive yellowish poop palette. If it were a Martha Stewart paint color, it would be called Spiced Mustard. If it were an Urban Decay nail polish color, it would be called Dirty Taxicab. I find my conversational style has shifted toward the interview mode, so I'm practically taking notes as I chat with other new mothers. It's not sustainable.

I'm not sure what we'll do. But I'm sure we'll figure it out. You did. Everyone else seems to. In the meantime I'll visit various day-care centers, feel vaguely depressed when I leave, and eventually reconcile. I'm curious about your take on nannies. Why do they make you uncomfortable?

You are so right about those parenting magazines. I guess they count on mothers being so distracted or tired or addicted to Schedule that they won't notice that the articles repeat themselves every month. Also, their alarmist streak is almost comical. Each month brings a feature that could be called "How To Kill Your Baby." Then a long elaborate description on how a baby could drown in a toilet. Then the ever helpful Safety Tip--buy a toilet latch. And no footnote explaining that this particular tragedy has happened about once since the toilet was invented, somewhere in Finland.

Now back to the papers, namely the story of the week. I'm starting to feel so sorry for poor Mercado, sitting on her floral sofa, patiently explaining to hordes of bilingual reporters how nice Miss Linda is.

As for Miss Linda, she's explained (or had others explain) her way into a bind. If she did employ her, she's in trouble. But if she didn't employ her, she's not so nice since she gifted the equivalent of about 10 cents an hour for some vulnerable immigrant to do her dishes. Robert Reich has a helpful op-ed in the Times today explaining the new complications of employment law. Have you ever dealt with a case like this? One footnote of this story: I never realized how not Latina Linda Chavez is. She has one grandparent from Spain and speaks no Spanish. By that standard I am more Hispanic than she is, by far. So much for diversity.

Just when I thought the abortion debate was all played out, there's something new (at least to me). Have you ever heard the term "abortifacients?" According to the Post profile of him, Ashcroft sent a letter complaining about federal coverage of birth control pills because they are abortifacients, meaning that like RU-486, they end viable pregnancies rather than prevent them. I hate to risk another scientific embarrassment, but am I missing something about the biology here?

Please advise.

XXOO,
H

P.S.: I hate to get personal here, but a certain Bird tells me your husband had not one but TWO glasses of wine at lunch yesterday. Yesterday was Monday. Parenting wearing you thin?

P.P.S.: Speaking of which, after a long crying jag last night, we finally tried the pacifier. Miraculous. Why does it work? It can't make the original problem go away. Is it just pure distraction. Let's ask Dr. Sears.