The Last Candle

The Neurologica blog, a logic- and neuroscience-oriented blog written by neurologist Dr. Steven Novella — who is also the host of the excellent Skeptics Guide to the Universe podcast — recently posted a commentary on a new brain behavior-related study: What’s in a smile? Maternal brain responses to infant facial cues. The study, published in the latest edition of the journal Pediatrics, concludes:

When first-time mothers see their own infant’s face, an extensive brain network seems to be activated, wherein affective and cognitive information may be integrated and directed toward motor/behavioral outputs. Dopaminergic reward-related brain regions are activated specifically in response to happy, but not sad, infant faces. Understanding how a mother responds uniquely to her own infant, when smiling or crying, may be the first step in understanding the neural basis of mother-infant attachment.

Dopaminergic. Hmm, yes, indeed. Hmm.

As a preface to the meat of Dr. Novella’s post, he begins with some sentiments as a parent that personally identify with the study:

I have two daughters, about to turn nine and six. They are, in my completely subjective and biased assessment, the most adorable things in the universe. They evoke in me a powerful and complex set of emotions – an experience that every parent understands and no non-parent can truly appreciate.

I forwarded the same Pediatrics study to my friend Jill, an actual mother (unlike the neurologist fellow). Jill did respond with her thoughts; kindly, she permitted me to reprint some of her comments here:

I can’t even explain how I feel when she smiles – I don’t think any bad mood could stand up against it. When she cries though, the feeling is almost animalistic – I can’t ignore her cries. I feel absolutely compelled so stop the crying and Anthony, while he doesn’t enjoy hearing her cry, has a completely different response.

A later email on the same topic offered further insight:

I recently visited with Anthony’s sister Jen and she has a little one who was born about 5 weeks after Eden. While we were there both babies were put down for a nap and at one point Jen’s little guy woke up and not only did I not react but I didn’t even hear him but when Eden started to cry I heard her right away even though she was further away from me than Kyle.

Science and neuroscience has tens or hundreds of years of research before the deep recesses of the human mind are well understood, but hearing about the personal experiences of Jill and Dr. Novella is at least as interesting and maybe more important — after all, these maternal and paternal attractions (well, the maternal attractions, at least) are exactly the kind of phenomena the study references. I can’t think of an appropriate word for how great the existence of those phenomena is, but it is great.

But yeah, the studies help. Now we just need a literature to establish a good theory…

Update, later: Comments for the new science topic don’t work, and I don’t care enough to try and fix them. The more incentives I have to move to Wordpress, the worse I feel bad about procrastinating about the move to Wordpress. So there.

“Busy” is not a word I’d use to describe the past month and few days, but that period hasn’t exactly been free time either. If someone asked me what I was doing with my time, I’d have to answer that I didn’t remember; if The Man kicked down my door and interrogated me about my whereabouts and doings for the past month, surely I’d get a stern and severe reprimand after stammering about the California trip (which would be enough to raise wooly eyebrows), my cold and…well, accounting for two weeks out of the month is good enough, right?

Ahh, California: land of a hundred climates, bear likenesses every hundred yards, and the tri-tip. Every year since 2004 or so I’ve visited my sister Becky and her family in sunny San Luis Obispo, and the annual visit is always a treat. This year’s west coast visit was a little different: for one, the trip to San Luis Obispo marked the second time I’ve been to California this year — the first occurred in February when I visited another member of the San family, San Francisco.

But also different about SLO Adventure 2008 was the mad-dash pace of California living this year that was relatively subdued in previous years. Past years have been extremely easy-going and relaxed: the daily procedure involved visiting a park in the morning and relaxing in the sun and comfortable air in the afternoon. The temperature in San Luis Obispo in the spring and summer months ranges from the 50s at night to the low 80s in the afternoon, and low humidity all the time, a climate that simultaneously induces a longing for marathon-length walks along the beach or California brush trails and a marathon-length lounging, something as simple as sitting in the backyard with a book. Previous years were all walks and books and time with Beck and the family.

This year: landed in San Luis Obispo — temperature was near one-hundred degrees. Two hours later: the beach. Ten hours later, next day: 4-mile hike up Bishop’s Peak that set off shortly after 6 AM (9 AM Michigan time). An hour after that: Beck’s friends drop by, and it’s off to pick ollaliberries at Avila Valley barn. Then the beach again, gladly. The next day brought a visit to the park and an afternoon trip to Monterey to prepare for an aquarium visit on Tuesday…

Well. I’ll stay away from the the whole blow-by-blow and bear-by-bear, but suffice to say this year’s visit topped ‘em all. (In terms of ranking, 2008 is number one, and the rest share the silver.)

But the problem: after returning to Michigan after both the San Francisco and the San Luis Obispo trips, my apartment feels a little less comfortable. Not to say that my abode isn’t where I keep all of my collected comforts and am glad to lay my cap, but I’ve come to a conclusion I’d rather keep all of my collected comforts and lay my cap in an abode located in California. Easy as that.

As good as the SLO trip was, it was succeeded by a terrible one-two sucker punch, a flu and a bad cold that began six days ago and continues today (this post brought to you through a steady tempo of coughing and sniffling). Physiologically-speaking, the illness began at the stomach and colon; after ravaging the poor GI tract, the malaise moved head-ward and started a scrum at the lungs, broadcasting news of the war to the extremities via joint pain (evidently). Most recently, the throat and nasal passages have taken up arms and T cells against the invaders; battles have been brutal and green, but the body is slowly taking back the hill.

(The additional counter in my Project 366 — Day 8 was yesterday, for example — has been keeping track of the days of mild suffering. The project is a daily journal of sorts, so affixing this additional marker to the regular postings will remind me of the past otherwise-unexceptional week. Not a great idea, or even a good idea, but more data is good.)

A 5 AM red-eye flight arrival and two days of late-night jet lag exacerbated the effects of my own personal viral infection horribly, costing this past work week, which was intended to be a crunch week for catching up, one full day and three half days. 7-UP, Gatorade, excellent parent-made chicken soup and thousands of soda crackers were consumed in the meantime.

As for the other two and a half weeks of time not spent blogging: I admit, I have no idea where they went. Swept under a rug somewhere, probably.