Tales of Minor Interest - SchmoopyBaby and More

All My Boys

2012-01-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

Sun Time on SchmoopyBoy's bed

Big brother is so funny!

Lil' Schmoo is still wrapped up and groggy after his nap

Interesting Discussion Here

2012-01-24T11:00:00.000-08:00

There is an interesting discussion going on at Blue Milk at her post on why pro-life is anti-feminist. I particularly agreed with the article by Anne Summers in The Age, an Australian publication. Makes me want to do more research on Margaret Thatcher, of whom I shamefully know so little. One day when I have more time (and am getting more sleep) I should add some of my own thoughts and commentary. Until then, I give you links and quotes.

From Anne Summers' article Yes, I know, I'm quoting the same section as Blue Milk. I think this sums up the issue quite well):

So what is a feminist? Can you be a political conservative and a feminist? I would say, Yes. Can you be (that heavily loaded oxymoron) ''pro-life'' and a feminist. I say an emphatic, No.

Let me elaborate. Feminism might be blandly defined as the support for women's political, economic and social equality, and a feminist as someone who advocates such equality, but these general principles need practical elaboration and application. What does economic equality actually mean? How can women in practice achieve social equality? As far as I am concerned, feminism boils down to one fundamental principle and that is women's ability to be independent.

There are two fundamental preconditions to such independence: ability to support oneself financially and the right to control one's fertility. To achieve the first, women need the education and training to be able to undertake work that pays well. To guarantee the second, women need safe and effective contraception and the back-up of safe and affordable abortion.

Feminism has taken on all sorts of issues over the decades, from the need for childcare to criminalising domestic violence to the rights of sex workers. Feminism has undertaken campaigns for everything from equal pay to paid maternity leave to the need for more women in parliament. There have been debates with, for example, some supporting women in the military, others claiming women are inherently pacifist.

But whatever the differences and however the issues have evolved over the years, with new ones (like sexual harassment) emerging as we develop greater understanding of women's experiences as new barriers are broken, the fundamentals have not and will not change.

Check out the discussion in the comments of Blue Milk's post. Some thought-provoking discussion.

Gratitude Post - 1/20/2012

2012-01-23T09:43:00.000-08:00

It has been too long since I’ve written a gratitude post. I have so many positives in my life. Here are this week’s top 5 things for which I am grateful:

1. Wellness room at the office - I have the distinction of being the first person to use the Wellness Room in my new building for its primary purpose – pumping breast milk. It is SO SO SO much better than what I had to deal with the first time.

2. Truly family friendly boss – I am now working from home two days a week, and my boss allows me the flexibility to switch my days at home when special circumstances arise. Makes my return to work easier on everyone in my household.

3. Seeing my baby laugh at his older brother’s silly antics – SchmoopyBoy is finally getting some of the positive attention from Lil’ Schmoo that he has been craving. It makes everyone feel a little more warm and fuzzy.

4. Baking with SchmoopyBoy – Over the past few months, SchmoopyBpy has really taken an interest in cooking and, particularly, baking with me. Almost every weekend I make a point of baking something with him. It’s a fun activity and special mommy-only bonding time for him, and we have yummy homemade (and relatively healthy!) treats around the house. On a related note…

5. The Joy of Vegan Baking – Many of the recipes SchmoopyBoy and I have tried out come from this book. Some of my favorite recipes include chocolate chip cookies, zucchini bread and muffins, cocoa spice muffins, and blueberry cake.

Babywearing Dad

2012-01-18T10:19:00.001-08:00

This is how Lil'Schmoo spends quite a bit of time with Dad while I work.

And this is what frequently ends up happening as a result.

How do you do it?

2012-01-12T15:02:00.000-08:00

Moms who blog - regularly.

How do you find the time to write well thought out, well written, coherent articles multiple times per week? This question applies to stay-at-home moms as well as moms who do paid work outside the home (or from home, as the case may be). I am just struggling to survive the day to day grind, and so my blog languishes.

I have so many ideas of topics I would love to write about. But regardless of whether I'm at home all day, as I was for the past 3 months, or whether I'm splitting my time between the office and home, I just can't seem to find the time and energy to post anything more than 3 lines of brainless fluff once a week, if that. Gone are my feminist rants, analysis of current events, and parenting theory. sigh. Perhaps one day they'll be back, but don't hold your breath too long.

I forgot my own anniversary

2012-01-10T13:58:00.000-08:00

This is what happens when I'm on my 2nd week back at work and I'm not getting enough sleep and life in general is overwhelming me - I forget my own wedding anniversary.

The husband gave me a cute card and chocolate cake. I gave him eyes popping out of my head, hand covering my mouth, exclaiming "Oh crap! I am so mortified! I can't believe I forgot!"

Another item to hang on my wall of shame.

My sincerest apologies, Husband. Happy anniversary! I love you!

Wordless Wednesday: 3 month birthday

2012-01-04T15:40:00.001-08:00

Better late than never...

Trial Run Successful

2012-01-01T16:22:00.000-08:00

Late last week we did a trial run, in which I left the husband in charge of both children for 2 hours while I got a hair cut and attempted to run a couple of errands. As luck would have it, the baby slept for an hour and 15 minutes (I put him to sleep just before I left), so he only had to deal with both kids for 45 minutes. The main thing is that he took the bottle, which we both suspected he would. whew.

With SchmoopyBoy, we had to work with him for two weeks before he would take a bottle from his dad upon first offering. He waited until the last moment - the day before I went back to work was the first day he would finally take it. I was so relieved I almost cried.

Lil' Schmoo is a whole different beast. He takes the pacifier on occasion, which SchmoopyBoy never did, and didn't hesitate with the bottle. Considering our first (and only) trial run was less than a week before my first day back at work, I am relieved it went well. I have to confess, I would have loved another trial run. Just one hour of time all to myself would be like a mini-vacation. Plus I could get things done that are difficult (for me) to do with a baby in tow.

On the really unfortunate side, Lil' Schmoo caught another cold. I. Know. This time I believe he caught it from his father, who was really sick about a week ago. I'm trying to keep SchmoopyBoy and myself well. What craptastic timing. Tomorrow is my last day as a stay at home mom. Wow. Time really flies.

Next Week

2011-12-28T13:31:00.000-08:00

I return to work after over 3 months on maternity leave. I can't believe it's been 3 months already. I'm not ready to leave my baby. He's not ready to be left. The husband isn't ready to take on 2 kids full time.

Everything will be fine, I know. It's just the build up to the inevitable that leaves me feeling such dread.

You know what is totally wacky? In this country, I am so damn privileged to be able to take a whole 3 months off. Thank you, FMLA (Family Medical Leave Act). Plus I have worked for my organization long enough to have built up a stock pile of paid leave so that all three months were paid. I'll be going back with no paid leave remaining, so it will be a month before I can take even one paid sick day, but I'm darn fortunate to have what I have.

So I have no excuse to whine about how I really wish I were living in Canada right now. Or pretty much anywhere else in the developed world. :-f

Checking In

2011-12-22T21:13:00.001-08:00

Where have I been for the past week?

1. Recovering from my 2nd case of mastitis (I could spend an entire post whining about all the troubles I'm having with breastfeeding this time around)

2. Having family in town visiting

Above mentioned family is still in town so I probably won't be able to post again this week.

Hope everyone is having a fabulous holiday season!

An interfaith household experience

2011-12-13T12:03:00.000-08:00

There's a Christmas tree in my house. This is actually the second year we've had it. The husband bought it the week after Christmas on sale two years ago.

It's weird.

Not the tree itself. The tree is lovely, even being fake. It's just weird that I have a Christmas tree in my house at all.

Oh, pardon me, it's actually a winter solstice tree. Decorating pine trees at this time of year is, after all, a Pagan tradition. Nonetheless, it is a very stark symbol of... (dun dun dun) ... assimilation. As in, I have assimilated into the dominant (Christmas celebrating) culture. I have sold out, so to speak.

But, not completely, my family will be happy to know. Today I went to SchmoopyBoy's school where I lit my menorah, and talked to the children about how we celebrate Hanukkah at our house. I told them that we celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah in our home, because SchmoopyBoy's daddy grew up celebrating Christmas and I grew up celebrating Hanukkah. SchmoopyBoy helped by handing me the candles and warning the other children to stay away from the fire because fire might kill them. I sang the prayers for the children and, although I didn't translate them into English, I told them what each was about (for example, "This one is about being thankful that we get to light these beautiful candles", etc).

We don't talk about being Jewish at my house very much. In fact, we tend to not talk about religion, period. Nonetheless, SchmoopyBoy is now at an age where he will remember what we do and what we don't do. He will start to feel ownership, so to speak, of the traditions we do in our home. Despite our household being by and large non-religous, I do want him to feel ownership of the practices I grew up with. I want him to understand that this is his heritage, and there is value to it.

So, I suppose the time will soon come when start having talks about what people believe and that different people believe different things. For now, I am content to say that some people celebrate only Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, or the Winter Solstice; and that we celebrate more than one holiday.

Wordless Wednesday: Brothers

2011-12-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

First Meeting
There's a lot of this going on at my house:

Very sweet, but you can see how everyone gets sick around here. The hands cannot stay off.

His Soul Eyes

2011-12-03T06:00:00.000-08:00

He looks at me. No, he looks into me. Clear blue eyes, the windows to the soul.

His soul reaches through his eyes, past my own eyes, and wraps around my own soul tentacle-like, drawing it back into his tiny body.

The expression is one of familiarity and devotion. His soul seems to says to mine, Ah, it's you! I remember you. I remember loving you. And I love you still, for you are mine.

Yes. I am yours. And you are mine. We belong to one another. Two souls recognizing each other from across an ancient lifetime.

Trust, Love, Devotion, Remembrance in his older, other-worldly eyes.

I do not know what unfinished business we have to complete. I know only this:

I must not let him down.

Proof we are unfit company for the Queen

2011-11-30T06:00:00.000-08:00

Exhibit 1.

How do get my 3 year old to eat black beans?

By calling them rabbit poo-poos.

Because, you know, there's nothing quite so hilarious as poo-poo. And what is better than talking about poo-poo than eating poo-poo?

I wonder how the Queen gets young children to eat beans. hmmmm....

Exhibit 2.

A recent conversation at my house.

It helps to know that (a) SchmoopyBoy is in the habit of adding the word poo-poo to everyday sentences, totally deadpan, (b) the husband recently got a new iphone, which is a great new toy for him, and (c) we watch all our tv through the computer.

SchmoopyBoy: I want to watch something.

Me: I think you've had enough screen time. How about if you play now, you can watch more tomorrow.

SchmoopyBoy: I want to watch poo-poo.

Me: Well, you're in luck. I'm on my way to the bathroom. You want to come with me? You can watch. (What? Half the time he follows me uninvited anyway, I might as well invite him.)

SchmoopyBoy: No. I want to watch poo-poo on the TV.

Husband: I can video tape mommy if you'd like. The iphone plugs into the computer really easily.

Me: ?!?!?!?!!!! (sighs and shakes head)

Dear Universe, Take Your Viruses and Shove It

2011-11-29T08:58:00.000-08:00

I am so sick of sickness I could cry.

Oh wait, I've already done that.

I am so sick of sickness I could scream.

Oh wait, I've already done that too.

Sheesh.

I don't know when the last cold ends and when the next cold begins. Or if it's all the same damn cold lingering or coming back all over again. I can't stand it. I just can't stand all the damn nonstop sickness.

I hereby am calling Primal Scream Tuesday.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

It's Thanksgiving! (and I'm still here)

2011-11-23T21:07:00.000-08:00

Wow, time flies when at least one person (typically 2 or more) in my home have been sick nonstop for a month. It's Thanksgiving, so it's all the more appropriate for me to take a moment to thank the family and friends, even virtual friends that I've never met in real life, who checked in with me to see if everything was ok. To be honest, I was fairly far off in postpartum land for a while, but I think I am doing a little better now. I pretty much checked out from the computer. I haven't been reading any of my regular sites that typically provide inspiration and motivation for my own blog posts. Not much reading, no writing. It's pretty much been all baby all the time, and one-dimensional life has never been particularly good for my emotional state. Not to mention, between all the illness, and Lil' Schmoo's determination the past several weeks that the carseat is the most awful torture device in the world, I haven't been getting out of the house much. Isolation is another aspect that has never been particularly good for my emotional state. I've been forcing myself out of the house a bit this past week, and with the holiday I'll likely get out of the house a bit more this weekend (Thursday for Thanksgiving lunch at my in-law's at a minimum).

So, in honor of Thanksgiving, and in the spirit of getting out of my funk, here are 5 things I am thankful for:

1. Mastitis is cleared up. Whew!

2. Family and friends that care enough to take a moment to check in on me when I go MIA (yes, I mentioned this above, but it's worth repeating here)

3. Baby smiles (pictures forthcoming)

4. Kisses from SchmoopyBoy - he has been quite generous with them recently

5. Morning naps - I got one today. It was awesome.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!

Got Mastitis?

2011-11-10T09:05:00.000-08:00

I do. And I can assure you, in case you've never had it, it is just as bad as you might imagine it to be.

Wait, no. I take that back. It's worse.

Besides the red, hot, sore and painful lump on my breast, there's the fever, the chills, the achey and painful everything - the worst flu ever is what it feels like. The kind of incapacitating flu that makes you want to curl up in bed and not move ever again. The kind that that, when you wake up lightheaded, dizzy, and nauseous from barely eating or drinking anything all day, makes you wonder how you're going to find the strength to carry an 11 1/2 pound infant that is sleeping in your arms a whole 20 feet to get yourself a glass of water. Nasty business, this mastitis.

This, plus the lingering cold that everyone in the whole house has had. That's right, now there's four people coughing their lungs out all night.

It's just a barrel of joy and rainbows around here I tell you.

bleh. vent over.

Halloween

2011-11-04T16:48:00.000-07:00

Just a few pictures of the kiddos in their outfits.

First, my happy fire fighter:

He went trick or treating with his cousins and was done after about 15 minutes. hehehe

Second, my little pumpkin baby:

And because I am a goofball, here is a closeup of OMG-cute-pumpkin-feet!!!

Recent Events

2011-10-31T11:35:00.000-07:00

First, SchmoopyBoy's first attempt at independent spelling. This spells "mommy":

Also, a few pictures of our 3rd annual visit to the fall festival at the local farm house. We had to wait in a ridiculously long line for the horse ride. Thankfully there was no wait for the hayride, which I think he actually enjoyed more.

Sadly, SchmoopyBoy got sick (again!) and even sadder, this time Lil' Schmoo was not so lucky to avoid catching it. This afternoon we're going to the doctor to make sure it's nothing serious. I really hope everyone is better by the weekend. My sister is coming out to meet her newest nephew and play with her oldest nephew. Hopefully sickness won't prevent anyone from having a nice visit.

Hope everyone has a fun and safe Halloween! Hopefully I'll get pictures of the kiddos in their costumes posted before Thanksgiving. ;)

One year later

2011-10-24T08:29:00.000-07:00

It is nearing the end of October, which is, in case anyone has forgotten, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I haven't written about it yet (although considering I've been up to my eyeballs living in newborn-sleep-deprivation-land, it's a minor achievement to post anything at all). That doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about it, and how my life has changed over the past year.

Last year at this time I was grieving pretty hard. Two losses in a year is certainly enough to put anyone off kilter. It was all I thought about, all I wrote about. And here I am, a year later, typing one-handed as I cradle my 5 week old nursling in my other arm.

Am I a better parent now because I have experienced loss? I sincerely doubt that. Am I a more appreciative parent? That is a possibility. I think back to what I took for granted with SchmoopyBoy, all the gratitude I did not indulge in. Granted, in the throws of my postpartum depression, I was more or less incapable of gratitude, but that feels like such a waste now. I look down at this dear, perfect child and the tenderness I feel for him is matched only by the gratitude I have for him. For Him - the child that lived, the child that I thought might never be.

He is worth the wait. But there is still some... regret? sadness? bitterness? that such a wait was imposed. Was he not yet ready to be born? Was I not yet ready to receive him? I may never understand the whys, and I may always wonder who might be here in his stead, had one of those other babies lived.

Does that make me a worse parent now because I have experienced loss? I doubt that. Am I a slightly more wistful parent? That is a possibility.

Such are the laws of physics and family building - for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. There is appreciation, but also wistfulness. There is joy, but also sadness. There is looking forward to the future, but also remembering and honoring the past. There is marveling at what I have, but also wondering about what I don't have.

Most of the time I am absolutely more connected with the positives - appreciation for what I have and looking forward to the future with my family. To be honest, I am rarely connected with the opposites. It's pretty tough to focus on negatives when you have such a soft-haired, cuddly pile of baby to gush over. Nonetheless, I can't help but grow thoughtful about these things when I look back to where I was at this time just one short year ago.

Fun Facts

2011-10-20T13:23:00.000-07:00

Five facts about Lil' Schmoo - age 1 month:

1. Hates being swaddled, must have his legs free to stretch out and hands by his head.

2. Having hands by his head means he sometimes wakes himself up when inadvertently sticking a finger in his mouth.

3. Refuses to stay asleep for more than 10 minutes when put down on a flat surface.

4. Still hates being vertical and loves being cradled, so still living in the ring sling.

5. Highly unimpressed with Gripe Water.

Five facts about SchmoopyBpy - age 3 years, 5 months:

1. Thomas the Train is the Greatest.Thing.Ever. Cannot get enough Thomas.

2. Toby the Tram is his favorite character.

3. Prefers soccer to t-ball.

4. Wants his baby brother's attention so badly, and gets upset that babies can't give attention yet.

5. Wants mommy-SchmoopyBoy-only time so badly, and gets upset that the baby is almost always attached to my body.

Cloth Diapering My Newborn

2011-10-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

When SchmoopyBoy was born, we had every intention of cloth diapering from the beginning. We bought a stash of one-size pocket diapers thinking the smallest setting would certainly be sufficient for our newborn, who would certainly be a least 8 pounds. Surprise! Out came our little 6 pound stringbean. The diapers we had were enormous for him. So we turned to disposables until he grew big enough for our stash.

This time, I bought a small stash of newborn sized cloth diapers of various types, and so far its going very well. I wanted to share some of my opinions on the various types we have, in case it may be useful for someone considering cloth diapers for their newborn. I purchased everything new, although I found most on some sort of sale or discount. All opinions are my own, and no one has offered any sort of compensation for my writing about them.

My favorite is probably the Rumparooz Lil' Joeys. I only bought one 2-pack because they are a little more pricey. These are an all-in-one diaper, so they are easy-peasy. Super cute. They come in lots of colors and they have a snap that allows you to use them before the cord stump falls off baby. I'm so sad my Lil' Schmoo will grow out of these soon.

I'm also loving my FuzziBunz Perfect Size in X-Small. I've got 6 of these in various colors. These are pocket diapers with a snap closure. I've used the one-size FuzziBunz with SchmoopyBoy with great success, so I thought I'd give the newborn size diaper a try. I'm glad I did. These and the Lil' Joeys are the diapers I use when we leave the house.

When SchmoopyBoy was small we tried a set of gDiapers. SchmoopyBoy was so skinny, they never fit particularly well and we had a lot of trouble with leaks. Lil' Schmoo is much more substantial in size, so I thought I'd pull out the old gPants and give them a try. To my delight they are working very well! I haven't used the flushable or cloth inserts that they sell specifically for the gDiaper system yet. I have been taking a bunch of cotton pre-folds that I already had on hand (the kind they sell at major retailers that most people use as burp cloths) and folding them into the right size to use as inserts. This has been working very well. I will say that this method is very bulky. I only use these when I'm at home because I can't really fit clothes over them. For travel I think the flushable inserts might be a good option.

The biggest disappointment is the set of Monkey Doodlez pocket diapers I found for cheap on Green Baby Bargains. The problem is that the inserts are tapered in a triangle shape, so there is almost nothing to catch pee in front. Perhaps these might work better for a girl, where more absorbency is needed in back than in front?

I wish I had pictures of Lil' Schmoo in each diaper to share with you. I tried taking some pictures with my trusty old cell phone camera and the results are really not worth sharing. You can see generic pictures of the diapers on the web sites linked above.

Happy cloth diapering!

Semi-functional

2011-10-07T14:22:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled and amazed to report that I am actually semi-functional these days. So different from 3 weeks after SchmoopyBoy was born. Today I had 3 goals - take a nap, put away the 3 loads of clean laundry sitting in my basket, and bathe Lil' Schmoo. It is not yet 2:30pm and I have met all 3 goals! Woo hoo! (What? It's the little things.) Bonus, I'm also getting diaper laundry done, updating the blog, and managing to put sustanence in my body every so often.

I also got out if the house twice this week! I went to a baby wearing group meeting on Wednesday, where I met a couple of really nice ladies who lent me some fabulous carriers that Lil' Schmoo hates. It's the position really. He wants to be in the cradle position pretty much all the time, and the wrap and mei tei I have on loan are based on a vertical position, which is currently totally unacceptable. So, he's been living in the ring sling, which is fine with me for now. I did also get to try a woven wrap at the meeting, which was totally drool-inducing for me. Perhaps when Lil' Schmoo gets older and bigger he might like those carriers better. Then I'll have to spend more money on such beautiful and comfy carriers. Or, I can stick with my Ergo, which really suits me just fine. I don't have an infant insert for it so that will have to wait a while. But then again there's that hating to be in the vertical position anyway thing, so just as well. I could so easily get addicted to baby carriers.

I had a really hard time with SchmoopyBoy in the ring sling when he was a newborn. I didn't really have the confidence to practice and figure out how to make it comfortable for him. I ended up not really using it until he developed head control and was able to use it like a pouch with him looking partially outwards. He never really wanted anything to do with facing my chest unless it was time to eat.

Using the carriers this time around is really an issue of practicality for me. I need to have my hands free to function and take care of of SchmoopyBoy and things around the house. Lil' Schmoo tends to wake of within minutes of my putting him down, so it I want any time to accomplish anything, I need to have him on my body in a safe, hands-free position.

I also went to a breastfeeding group meeting yesterday, which was a little disappointing because the lactation consultant wasn't there. So, I got a little feedback from a couple of mamas, but I'd have preferred a little professional advice. Breastfeeding is going pretty well in general, I just wanted to get a couple of tips because my right side has, once again, taken on the role of The Producer, and sometimes it's too much for my little guy. He sometimes comes off choking and gasping, which then of course triggers screaming, which is thankfully short-lived, but very sad nonetheless. They meet weekly, so I'll try to find out ahead of time if the lactation consultant will be there next week. It will be a good excuse to get out of the house again anyway.

I have to admit I'm still a little intimidated about taking trips to the store (any store) with Lil' Schmoo. And I haven't been anywhere outside of the house with both kids on my own yet. That will come soon though, I'm fairly sure. I'm at home on my own with both kids fairly regularly, as the husband takes class twice a week this semester.Things only got a little out of hand once, and thankfully the husband got home early that night so was able to take the baby while I gave SchmoopyBoy some much needed mommy-only time. I could talk about how SchmoopyBoy is adjusting, but I think that's a whole separate post, so I'll hold back for now. In general he is loving himself some baby, but the lack of mommy-only time is clearly taking a toll on him.

Well, that's the update for now. Have a great weekend everyone!

Wordless Wednesday - A Face a Mama Could Love

2011-09-28T15:51:00.000-07:00

More tidbits

2011-09-22T10:12:00.000-07:00

First, a picture of the new poop factory:

I cropped this out of the birth announcement the husband emailed out, so it has a goofy little bow at the bottom that I couldn't crop out. There are more (and probably better) photos, but I can't access them right now on the husband's computer.

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SchmoopyBoy is sick. Isn't that awesome timing? I have a 3 day old newborn, and a sick 3-year old who can't keep his hands off anything, and wanted little more last night but to sit in my lap with his hands on my mole and my belly - all evening long and into bedtime. Primal scream going on over here from that mess.

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I had one goal for yesterday - take a shower. (First post partum shower, mind you.) I failed that goal.

Which is only scary because now I have 2 goals for today - take a shower and take LittleSchmoo to the pediatrician by myself this afternoon.

Can I handle 2 goals in one day yet? Ugh.

Checking in - He's here!

2011-09-20T21:02:00.000-07:00

At 3:32am Sunday morning, we became a family of four. I'm currently experiencing the delirium of 3 nights with no or very little sleep so I'm going to make this short. I will likely check out for a while, but will share some reflections on this birth, which I did rock, if I may say so myself. Going into labor naturally and progressing completely on my own all the way to pushing him out was somewhat awe inspiring to me - I can finally see why and how women feel transformed after a natural childbirth. It was really quite empowering. I will confess that I was screaming for an epidural at one point, just before it was time to push. Of course by the time the guy arrived the baby's head was half way out.

Nursing is going well.My milk is already in! This kid is going to be a boobie-monster just like his brother.

Speaking of the big brother, SchmoopyBoy is loving him some baby. I can't believe how great he is responding to him. Here are some quotes:

"He's so small!"

"He has no teeth!"

"He is so soft!"

"I love him" (followed by kiss, yes I started to tear up at that point)

"You have a soft big round belly now!"

Checking In - Still Pregnant

2011-09-16T09:02:00.000-07:00

I'm still here. Yes, I'm still pregnant. Yes, I'm uncomfortable as all heck. No, I don't want him to come out yet. I need one more weekend. He can come out anytime after Tuesday. I'll be at 39 weeks starting Sunday so that sounds completely reasonable to me. Plus, that would be infinitely more convenient. ;-)

SchmoopyBoy start T-ball on Saturday and I really don't want him to miss the first day. Then he's got a birthday party on Sunday evening to which we've already RSVP'ed and I would hate flaking on something like a child's birthday party. Then on Monday we are going to be very short staffed in the office and Monday is a very busy day with reports on tight deadlines and meetings, and Tuesday evening the husband has an assignment to do for his class this semester. I know, I know, I'm sure everyone would understand if I was in labor at the time of the event in question. I just don't want anyone to miss anything.

I'm sure I'm being quite ridiculous, and I'm ok with that.

Sing-along, Brush-along Songs

2011-09-13T03:00:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the September Carnival of Natural Parenting: Parenting Through Play

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama. This month our participants have shared how challenging discipline situations can be met with play. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.

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SchmoopyBoy does not like getting his teeth brushed at bedtime (or any other time, really). Tooth brushing has been a struggle pretty much since we first started brushing his teeth. He is the king of holding his hand over his mouth with his lips tightly fused together. I’ve tried reasoning with him about the dangers of cavities. I’m pretty sure all he hears is “wah wah wah.” Have I been tempted to just pry his hand away and use my physical strength to overpower him and force my way into his mouth on a particularly tiring and frustrating day? I’d be lying if I denied it. Yet using my superior physical strength to impose my will over his body feels very wrong. I think it teaches him a dangerous and destructive lesson that using violence and physical force over a smaller, weaker person and forcing them to do what you want is ok. Not to mention how NOT conducive to a peaceful, relaxing bedtime it is to engage in a physical struggle with a screaming, flailing, 30 pound octopus of a three year old.

So how do I get him to willingly open his mouth? One major tool I don’t hesitate to bring out is music and song. I am all about making up alternative lyrics to popular (or not so popular) songs, and singing them in funny voices with lots of melodrama and silly vibrato. If you think this idea might work for you and your child, here are a couple ideas for a variety of musical preferences.

For the classic rock lover, sung to tune of Queen’s We are the Champions:

I’ve got a toothbrush, my schmoo-oooo
And I’ll keep on brushing every tooth
I’ve got a toothbrush, I’ve got a toothbrush,
No time for cavities, so I’ll keep on brushing…
‘till they’re clean!

For the pop music fan, sung to tune of Madonna’s Music, Hey Mr. DJ:

Hey Mr. Toothbrush
How are you today?
Come on and brush my teeth now.
‘Cause when the toothpaste’s on,
I never want to stop
You know it is so yummy.
Hey there! Mr. Toothbrush!
Brush my tee-eeth! Yeah!
Hey there! Mr. Toothbrush!
Brush my tee-eeth! Yeah!

For the Star Wars fan, sung to the tune of the Imperial March (aka Darth Vadar’s theme):

Brush brush brush
Brush your teeth, brush your teeth
Brush brush brush
Brush your teeth, brush your teeth
Brushie-brush, brush, brush, yeah
Brushie-brush, brush, brush.
Brush brush brush
Brush your teeth, brush your teeth

The lyrics of this are simple and boring enough that silly voices/faces and gratuitous over-the-top vibrato (think of an Ethel Merman caricature or Goofy from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse) are a good mix for this choice.

Really, the possibilities are endless. Any tune I get stuck in my head is fair game for being turned into a tooth brushing song. If I can’t think of any appropriate lyrics on the fly, I just substitute the word “brush” or “toothbrush” or “brushie” for the usual “la la” or “doo doo doo” that most people hum to themselves.

The benefits of a playful approach to brushing teeth are numerous. First, the obvious – teeth are successfully and adequately cleaned. Second, the child is either smiling and giggling at the end, or at the very least isn’t having a melt-down and no one is hurt in the process. Third, on those rough “I’m so done you could stick a fork in me” days, you might even find yourself in a better head space – such is the power of play and laughter.

Happy brushing!

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Visit Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

On being a more playful parent — Isil at Smiling like Sunshine shares how the Playful Parenting book impacted her.

Parenting a toddler through play — Alicia at I Found My Feet lists some examples of how she uses play to parent through everyday tasks and challenges.

Splashing in Puddles — Abbie at Farmer's Daughter shares how she learned to get dirty and have fun with her little boy.

Say Please — Cassie at There's a Pickle in My Life explains how they taught their son manners by "play," showing that actions speak louder than words.

No Nanny Needed — Laura at Our Messy Messy Life wishes parenting through play was her only responsibility during the day.

I'll Run Away With Gypsies — Nikalee at Spotted Pandemonium maneuvers physical and emotional obstacles while spinning playful tales, jumping through hoops, and inspiring the kids to clean the living room.

A Promise To My Daughter — Lindsey at An Unschooling Adventure writes a poem for her daughter promising to use play instead of anger when facing difficult situations.

Parenting Through Play — Not Always Easy But Always Rewarding — Amy at Peace4Parents discusses how play hasn't always come easily to her, the power of appreciative observation, and how her family learns together through play.

Imagination Plays a Role in Our Parenting — Tree at Mom Grooves shares how parents can use play to set the foundation for communication and understanding.

A Box of Crayons — Jenn at Monkey Butt Junction talks about how a simple box of crayons has become a wonderful parenting and teaching tool.

The Essential Art of Play — Ana at Pandamoly shares some of her favorite lessons available for young ones through play.

The Art of Distraction — Amanda at Let's Take the Metro shares a list of distracting alternatives to harsh punishments in tough parenting situations.

Grace and Courtesy Games at Home or School — Deb Chitwood at Living Montessori Now has ideas for grace and courtesy games that help you encourage courteous behavior without reprimanding your child.

I am woman, hear me roar! — Mrs Green from Little Green Blog shares how one simple sound can diffuse an argument in an instant.

Getting Cooperation Through Play — Amyables at Toddler In Tow talks about respecting the worldview of a preschooler by using play to encourage connection and cooperation.

Playful Parenting = Extra Energy?? — Momma Jorje didn't think she had the energy for playful parenting. See what she was surprised to learn…

Dance Party Parenting — Laura from A Pug in the Kitchen learned how to be the parent her children need through play.

Wrestling Saved My Life — Wrestling is as vital to her son's well-being as babywearing once was, finds Hannah at Wild Parenting.

Parenting through play — By playing with her children, Tara from MUMmedia is given amazing opportunites to teach, train and equip her children for life.

Parenting Through Play Starts in Infancy — In a guest post at Natural Parents Network, Issa from LoveLiveGrow shares that though she only has a 3-month-old, playful parenting has already started.

Play Before Sleep — Adrienne at Mommying My Way writes about how playing and singing with her son before he falls asleep helps calm her frustrations that tend to arise at night.

Playful Parenting — Or 5 Lessons My Son Has Taught Me About Parenting Through Play — Charise at I Thought I Knew Mama has learned to be a better parent by following her toddler's lead in play.

Hurry up! Hurry up! I mean it! Quack, quack, quack! — Kellie at Our Mindful Life leads a trail of ducklings

On the Road: Learning to Play — Seonaid at The Practical Dilettante discovers her inner adult through a summer of playing with her children.

Preventing Tantrums Through Play — Gaby at Tmuffin explains how she keeps her household happy by not taking things too seriously.

Carnival of Natural Parenting: Parenting Through Play — Lily, aka Witch Mom, redirects unwanted behavior in a toddler using games and play.

Exaggerating for effect — Lauren at Hobo Mama has learned how to ham it up.

Handling Big Emotions with Role Playing — Zoie at TouchstoneZ plays at tempering her parental frustrations while helping her children handle some big emotions

How To Herd Toddlers by Talking Pictorially — Jennifer at Hybrid Rasta Mama demonstrates how talking in pictures is a playful way to engage your young child in transitioning from one activity to the next.

Getting a Toddler to Go Where You Want…Playfully — Sylvia at MaMammalia describes how a game of hide-and-seek can be used to steer a wandering toddler in the direction of her choosing.

Playful Parenting: Chores That Do Themselves — Remember chores when you were a kid? If chores were this fun for Chante at My Natural Motherhood Journey, she wouldn't have needed any reminders!

Clown School Express: Playing away Fears — MudpieMama describes how she helped her boys confront their fears about starting kindergarten by playing with trains.

Practicing Playful Parenting — Terri at Child of the Nature Isle realizes that playfulness is the best way through the day and seeks more ways to practice it.

Today, Tomorrow and Every Day — Starr at Taking Time addresses her children in a letter sharing with them how improtant it is that they spend their childhood playing.

Learning Through Immersion — Luschka at Diary of a First Child shares how she helps her daughter develop naturally without focusing on teaching, but rather by immersing her in their family's way of life and making her an active part of her environment.

Play Here Now — Jessica at Instead of Institutions learns and relearns and tries to remember the value of play.

Play: A Wonderful Parenting Tool — Mamapoekie from Authentic Parenting offers a list of examples on how to use play in real-life parenting situations.

Playful Parenting — a Book Review — Erica at ChildOrganics shares simple yet sage advice from Dr. Cohen on how play can change your child's life.

Mock Threats: Turning Real Frustration into Playful Parenting — Threatening is not an effective discipline strategy, but Dionna at Code Name: Mama explains how parents can turn their frustration into playful moments by making "mock threats."

I'm Sick of Yelling — I Want to Play — Alicia at McCrenshaw's Newest Thoughts realizes she needs to change the way she's parenting and is forming a new plan.

Sing-along, Brush-along Songs — Shana at Tales of Minor Interest shares a few songs to make brushing her three-year-old's teeth more fun.

Monster Voice — Ever have those frustrating moments with your kid(s) when you just want to scream? Amy at Anktangle shares a silly strategy for getting through those difficult times.

Three-year old + nail polish = Halloween toes

2011-09-07T22:12:00.001-07:00

This is what happens when I let my three-year old paint my toenails. The final product looks like something from a Halloween movie.

Lest you miss the fine details from my oh-so-stellar photo skills:

In case you are wondering, I did manage to remove all polish before I left the house.

Good analysis of a complicated issue

2011-09-05T14:04:00.000-07:00

You may or may not have heard about the controversy surrounding a certain barf-inducing sexist shirt for girls on sale at a certain major retail store. I won't get into the details here, but rather refer you to the most articulate and well thought out commentary I have read about it by Liz at Mom-101.

It is useful to note that she approaches the issue from the perspective of a mother of girls. As a mother of boys, I will need to approach the topic of sexism with my children from a slightly different angle. I will confess I'm still sorting out in my head how I am going to do this.

My 3 year old son has remarked on the giant billboard on the freeway near our house which shows four scantily clad women with bare midrifs. The photo is cropped to just above their necks - the photo is literally a bunch of faceless bodies. He thinks it is hilariously silly that there's a giant picture of a bunch of tummies. He has also deduced, in true 3-year-old logic fashion, that since the tummies in question are clearly those of women, and clearly flat (versus his own mother's huge round pregnant tummy) that these "mommies" have already pushed out their babies and that is why their tummies are now flat.

I have no idea how to address this in an age appropriate way, other than to say that they may be mommies and they may not be mommies - I don't know because not all women are mommies. I have not touched the whole objectification of women's bodies issue, nor have I touched the idea what constitutes female attractiveness in our society and how that contributes to unhealthy body image and behavior.

I don't know when is the right time to start talking explicitly about these topics. I do believe it will be critically important for me to talk to my sons about it though, because teaching women to empower themselves is only half the equation. As one of Mom-101's commenter's put it, "You know who will help stop sexism? MEN. Men standing up and saying THIS IS BULLSHIT." I want my sons to be two of the men who recognize sexist BS when they see it and stand up and call it for what it is.

Random Tidbits

2011-09-01T12:45:00.000-07:00

SchmoopyBoy is going through another growth spurt. I cannot believe the volume of food this kid is consuming. Seriously. I'm talking twice as much french toast for breakfast than I can eat, or three dinners in one night (separated by about 1/2 hour to 1 hour intervals). He's still a pretty thin kid, so where the heck is it all going? Furthermore, if he eats like this at the age of three, how the heck am I going to feed him when he's a teenager without going bankrupt?

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Wow, I am uncomfortable these days. Which is ironic to me only because of how very different this pregnancy is that my pregnancy with SchmoopyBoy. With SchmoopyBoy, I was so miserable the first half of the pregnancy, I remember thinking that I would prefer 40 weeks of the 3rd trimester over a single week of what I experienced during the first two trimesters. This time has been so easy and relatively comfortable that I'm kind of beside myself that I'm so uncomfortable now.

This baby is just so... rude! It's funny that I don't remember SchmoopyBoy being quite so rude about practicing boxing on my intestines nonstop for over an hour. Or just hanging out on my bladder, putting so much pressure on it, if there is more than a trickle inside the discomfort is so excruciating I cannot even stand up straight sometimes. Hopefully not an indicator of things to come once he's on the outside. ;-)

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At 36 weeks, my doctor is not going to do anything to stop labor once it starts, so I'm officially on baby watch. That being the case, I'm still not ready for him to come out quite yet. I need probably at least one more week at work to wrap things up (although I'm planning on working until the last day to save my leave for after he's born) and my house is definitely nowhere near ready. I have a to do list on my refrigerator, and it feels like for every item I cross off the list, 2 new items are added.

sigh.

Gratitude Post - 8/29/11

2011-08-29T09:41:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Amanda at Lets Take the Metro, I am attempting to post 5 things for which I am grateful each week. Here are this week's top 5:

1. Visiting with out of town family – While in Phoenix for a business meeting last week, I got to meet up with my cousin, aunt and uncle for dinner. It was great to see them, as it can sometimes go over a year between visits.

2. Birthday ice cream cake – When I was a child, every year my parents would get an ice cream cake for my birthday party. This year, with the opening of a vegan-friendly ice cream store relatively nearby, the husband and I splurged on an ice cream cake for our birthdays (his birthday is one day after mine). My childhood tradition may need to turn into an adult tradition too. ;)

3. My 3-year old singing happy birthday to me – The highlight of my day, by far.

4. Yummy new vegan brunch spot – I love brunch. It’s probably my favorite meal. I have so been missing a good brunch spot, since it is so hard to find a place that is vegan-friendly for the husband. Fortunately, a new vegan bistro recently opened, and we tried it out on my birthday. It was a long wait to get our food since we got there in the middle of the Sunday rush, but so yummy we will absolutely be back, and now that we know when the busy time is we can avoid the rush time or order ahead.

5. Having a vegetable garden in my back yard – This is the first year we’ve tried to grow anything, and our summer harvest has been quite respectable. I absolutely love that I can just go outside and pick an onion or a stalk of basil whenever I need it when I’m preparing dinner.

Preparing for Joyful Birth - Making Peace with my Soul

2011-08-26T06:30:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the First Carnival of Birth Reflections

This post was written for inclusion in the Carnival of Birth Reflections hosted by Patti at Jazzy Mama and Zoie at TouchstoneZ. Participants are writing posts that reflect on how birth has transformed them into who they are today. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.

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This is the third post in a series I have written about healing from trauma and preparing for a joyful birth. In my first post, I published the original birth story I wrote in the weeks after SchoopyBoy's birth, and wrote that things had been left unsaid - things that caused me to feel guilt and shame. In my second post, I wrote about making peace with my body after developing pre-eclampsia and then having two consecutive miscarriages. In this final post on birth reflections, I want to talk about what I experienced during the birth, how it impacted bonding with my newborn, and how I am preparing for a more joyful birth experience this time.

Throughout my pregnancy with SchmoopyBoy, I felt that if I needed an emergency cesarean I could live with it because I trusted my care provider and believed it wouldn't be done unless truly necessary. The one thing I had wanted to avoid with all my heart was a chemical induction, which is exactly what I was facing due to my pre-eclampsia diagnosis. I checked into the hospital with dread. My (extraordinarily opinionated and manipulative) childbirth educators had virtually drilled into my head that an induced labor was nothing more than hours of tortuous pain followed by an inevitable cesarean. I strongly considered bypassing the several hours of tortuous pain and requesting we go straight to cesarean, since I figured that was the inevitable outcome anyway.

I actually tolerated the induced labor well – until the bag of waters burst. Wow, what a difference that made! As I wrote in my original birth story, I thought I was less than 4 cm dilated since the balloon inserted behind my cervix had never fallen out. I didn’t think I could handle the pain for an unknowable number of hours, so I requested an epidural at that point. It was during the preparation for the epidural that I found out that I was in transition, at 8cm. My childbirth educator had sat in front of a room full of expecting first time parents and told us that transition only lasts 15 minutes (not that it may only last 15 minutes for a lucky few, but that it does last approximately 15 minutes). I thought I could tolerate the pain for only 15 more minutes, declined the epidural, and set to work.

I was not one of the lucky few with a 15 minute transition. I lost track of time, my head and body reeling from what it was experiencing. At some point, after almost 2 hours had passed, I figured it had been more than 15 minutes and cried out "Why is it taking so long?!” When my doula answered, “It takes as long as it takes” I knew I had been lied to, and was livid.

After another hour of pushing, during which time the intense pitocin-fueled transition contractions never let up, the doctor became alarmed at the baby’s dropping heart rate every time I pushed, and so initiated an emergency vacuum extraction.

Let me make this entirely clear. No living creature should ever experience having a baby ripped out of her nether region without so much as an ibuprofen. Seriously. No one. The sensation is Un.Real.

Having several hours of painful contractions that rated 11 on a pain scale of 1 to 10, culminating in a vacuum extraction left me… in shock. Literally. They immediately placed my baby on my chest, but I could not move. I could not breathe. I felt only a weight on my chest and horror at what my body had just endured.

The only thought in my head was “It’s still not even over. I still need to birth the placenta. What pain still awaits me?”

I finally calmed down enough to realize that I ought to at least look at my newborn son. The only thing I could move were my eyes, which had been staring ahead, seeing nothing. My eyes turned down and I saw blood on my baby’s face. I knew it was my blood. I knew it meant that I had either torn or had an episiotomy, and that I would need stitches.

The thought that ran through my head was “Oh God, it’s still not over. I need stitches too. When will this torture be over? I just want this torture to end.”

Did I mention that my newborn baby son was on my chest this whole time, and all I could think of was “Good heavens please just let this torture end”?

Where was the overwhelming flood of maternal love? Where was the exquisite tenderness? The immediate bond of falling in love with my child the moment he exited my body?

I could not feel any of it. I was so traumatized and in shock over what I had physically experienced that I was unable to bond with my own baby.

What the heck was wrong with me? Here I had just become a mother, my first born child lying in my arms across my chest and all I could think about was my own physical pain? What kind of mother was I? And if my maternal instinct had failed at this most significant of moments, what kind of mother could I possibly hope to be? As far as I could tell, I had no maternal instinct. First my body had betrayed me by developing pre-eclampsia, and now my soul – that which made me ‘maternal’ failed me.

Postpartum depression followed in the weeks after SchmoopyBoy’s birth. I didn’t trust myself. I kept repeating “I have no maternal instinct. I don’t know what to do for this baby, how to respond to him, how to take care of him. I can’t do this.” I think I loved him, but I wasn’t in love with him. He was a great scary bundle of need, and it terrified and overwhelmed me.

The happy ending to this story is that of course, it did get better. It took somewhere around 8 weeks – about the time it took my body to heal – for me to realize one night as I was nursing him to sleep how truly, deeply, and tenderly I loved him. I started to feel more competent and trusting in myself as a parent.

Today, I can gaze upon his sweet sleeping form and feel so full, such deep and poignant love, that the feeling overflows from my body and spills out in tears.

But guilt remains. And shame remains. I couldn’t bond with my baby. I couldn’t love him the way I was supposed to. I was too self-centered, too focused on myself.

I don’t want another birth experience like this. I can’t stand the thought of going through that torture again. A torture so acute that I cannot bond with my baby.

That is why I freaked out when my doctor once again expressed concern about my blood pressure and put me on medication a couple of months ago. My brain buzzed and hummed No No No Not again. I cannot go through that again. Fear and dread overwhelmed me.

I am lucky to have a great doula team. One, an apprentice midwife, had a similar experience. Her first birth was a cesarean, her second was a pitocin-induced VBAC, and her third was a midwife assisted home birth. She tells me that, according to her experience, the worst of the natural contractions doesn’t come close to the most mild of the pitocin contractions. Her greatest fear is that I will be looking for those intense pitocin contractions, and won’t realize that I’m in labor until I’m in transition, and she and her partner will barely get to me just in time to catch a baby. Ha-ha, the unassisted home birth I never planned!

It was also my doula that suggested, as she reacted to my telling her of this birth experience, that I might be suffering from post traumatic stress as a result of a traumatic birth experience. It was she who emphasized the need for me to forgive myself, that trouble with bonding after a traumatic birth is not uncommon.

So here I am, preparing to birth my second child with joy. Learning to forgive myself – forgive my body for developing pre-eclampsia in the first place, and forgive my soul for reacting to physical trauma in a common and normal way. Writing and sharing my stories to find healing for myself and encourage healing in others. Practicing gratitude for all the joys in my life. Repeating positive affirmations – “I welcome my baby with happiness and joy” so the fear and dread have no room to breathe and are crushed out of existence among all the positive and joyful energy engulfing me.

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Visit Jazzy Mama and TouchstoneZ to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Birth Reflections!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

In the Middle - A Progression Through Four Birth Experiences Amy at Peace 4 Parents shares her birth experiences and the central focus that holds them together.

A Birth Story-The Post Where I Finally Let Go Jennifer at Hybrid Rasta Mama finally frees herself of all of the negativity she held onto regarding the way in which her daughter came earthside.

From Hospital to Home Birth Kerry at City Kids Homeschooling explains how it took three pregnancies to realize that birth is a natural, empowering life event to be celebrated at home.

Preparing for Joyful Birth-Making Peace with my Soul Shana at Tales of Minor Interest prepares to birth her second child with joy after a traumatic first birth experience.

Reflections Rosemary at Rosmarinus Officinalis reflects on the planned cesarean birth of her breech daughter.

The Top Five Utterances of my HBAC Leah @ Zen and the Art of Cloth Diaper Maintenance comments on how an HBAC brings many new expierences and phrases.

Labor Phases: Latent, Sleep, Transitional, Hell CatholicMommy shares the surprises of her birth story.

The Birth of My first Child - Our Miracle Baby Darcel @ The Mahogany Way Birth Cafe shares her story of the traumatic birth of her first child. Darcel still feels guilt over the birth and is looking for ways to heal.

My Thoughts on Birth: 10 Months Later Adrienne at Mommying My Way compares how she feels about her son's birth now that he's ten months old with how she felt right after he was born, and how that impacts how she relates to other new moms.

Jasmine's Birth, My Rebirth Patti at Jazzy Mama discovered that the birth of her third daughter would change her entire view of her Life.

Birth Reflection: It Only Takes A Second Zoie at TouchstoneZ reflects on her third homebirth-the birth of her second living child

Today's thought on work-life balance

2011-08-25T10:17:00.000-07:00

As I write and post this, I am in Phoenix, Arizona. I am not on a family vacation, but on an overnight business trip. My second since SchmoopyBoy’s birth, and my second in just the past 4 months.

I have mixed thoughts on overnight work travel. On one hand, I used to do a lot of overnight business trips before SchmoopyBoy was born. I work in a field and for an organization where travel is pretty much necessary for certain projects and programs. The fact that I haven’t traveled in 3 years has meant that I don’t get assigned to a lot of the most interesting projects, and it has compromised the advancement of my career. Seeing as I am the primary income earner in my family, this could have real implications for my family’s future. Plus, (yes, let’s go there, shall we?) you don’t see many fathers compromising their future career growth once they have children in order to spend more time at home with their young children.

On the other hand, at this stage of his life, my child needs me. He needs me, Mommy. I started preparing him a few days before my departure. I told him about how he was going to have special daddy time and I wouldn’t be here for one night to put him to sleep. He was not happy. He is, now, not happy with me. Every time I have called since I departed he hasn’t wanted to talk to me. Not because he’s having so much fun that he can’t drag himself away (although when he was visiting and playing with cousins yesterday afternoon that was certainly a good portion of it). He hasn’t wanted to talk to me because he is upset with me for leaving him and he is giving me the cold shoulder. So, I will have quite a bit of reconnection to do when I get back into town.

What complicates things for me even more is my own ambivalence. This business trip, like my previous business trip in May, has been almost like a mini vacation. I’ve gone out to dinner with other adults and had adult conversations for 1-2 hours. I haven’t had to think about what my picky toddler will be willing to eat. I haven’t had to worry about entertaining a young child at the table with books or toys. I haven’t had to get up from the table, interrupting my conversation, to take him for a walk outside when he gets restless so he doesn’t disturb the other customers. I went back to the hotel last night and watched television – things I never watch anymore like CSI and a PBS documentary. I cannot tell a lie. I’ve been selfishly enjoying being away for a night.

But I’ve also missed my little SchmoopyBoy. Each time I call and he pouts that he doesn’t want to talk to me in his ‘upset voice’ it breaks my heart. It makes me want to run home as quickly as I can and pull him onto my lap and hold him tightly, smothering him with kisses so he knows that no one and nothing is more important to me than him.

Balance. It’s hard. It’s complicated.

Overheard at the Grocery Store

2011-08-24T16:50:00.000-07:00

I was on an unusual solo grocery shopping trip when I overheard a clearly exasperated woman in my isle berating her daughter (I would estimate the daughter was somewhere between 10 and 12, but I didn’t get a close look at her and I am a horrible judge of children’s ages). The tirade went something like this:

You really need to stop paying attention to what other people are doing and just pay attention to what you are doing. I’ve told you, the country isn’t run by A students, the country is run by C students, so just stop thinking about your grades and ignore them.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this, I think it is so interesting and wanted to think about all the different parts of her statements. The biggest question is, in my mind, Is what the mother said helpful? Since this conversation appears to be a common theme, I’m guessing the answer is Not so much, or the daughter may have resolved her upset and not feel the need to talk about it again. So let’s break down what the mother said and what the intention likely was behind it.

First, I understand that she was trying to tell her daughter to not compare herself and her academic performance to others, but just focus on doing what she could. I can appreciate that. Mel at Stirrup Queens recently posted an excellent article on objective success versus comparative success. The basic idea is that, a lot of the time we are objectively successful in an endeavor – in academics, in a career, in a relationship, really anything. But so often we compare ourselves to others who are more successful (or appear to be more successful) and we feel mediocre at best and like failures at worst. In the exchange I described above, it appears the daughter has clearly expressed some insecurity about her academic abilities in the past. She tends to compare herself against higher performing children and feels bad about herself. The mother was trying to invoke Mel’s idea of objective success versus comparative success in her first sentence. I think she could have worded it better, personally, and made the idea more clear.

The exchange took a rather surprising philosophical turn, I think. “The country isn’t run by A students, the country is run by C students.” Such an interesting thought - so counter to what we are constantly told, what we are conditioned to believe. C is an “average” grade, and most people are considered “average”, so if you mean to say that the majority rules and the majority is average, then that position makes sense. But is it true that the “average” rule the country? If you consider a certain previous president (cough, choke, Dubya, ehem) that certainly seems true. But is that the exception to the rule, or is that the general rule? Who really runs this country? Elite CEOs who graduated from prestigious ivy league universities and have the money and influence to shape policy? Hysterical ideologues that exert pressure on their representatives to behave like 3 year olds based on lack of information, lack of critical thinking, and dogma? Honestly, I think I could easily argue both positions. (I know there is an implicit assumption that ‘elite CEO’s who graduate from ivy league universities’ represent the A students and the ‘hysterical ideolologues who don’t think critically’ represent the C students. I acknowledge these representations are totally unfair, biased stereotypes and I apologize for not being well thought out enough to develop a better comparison.)

Lastly, the idea of a mother telling her child to ignore her grades is surprising, assuming the child attends a traditional public or private school. If the child were home schooled or unschooled I don’t believe grades would even be an issue of concern to the child, since grades are not the marker of achievement in a home school environment. Assuming the mother sends her daughter to a public or private school, where grades are the marker of achievement, and where they push the idea of better grades equals more success in life, what do you tell your child if you see that she is genuinely limited in academic ability, as measured in the public setting? How does a mother make her ‘average performing’ child feel adequate among higher performing peers? Should she try to build her up by tearing the higher performing child down, as this mother did by saying that A students don’t run the country, C students do? Or, perhaps, would a better idea be to focus on the child’s strengths and support and encourage the development of those strengths? I obviously know nothing about this girl. I don’t know if she plays a musical instrument or excels at ping pong or has an eye for designing creative landscapes. If academics is something that is really important to the child, and she seems to be struggling, perhaps talking about potential ways to get her additional help and academic support, through a tutor or additional time one-on-one with a teacher after school would be appropriate.

I tend to think that figuring out what is appropriate for the individual child takes more two way dialogue and active listening to the daughter’s true concerns. Perhaps the grocery store isn’t the best place for such a conversation, and perhaps the mother followed up later that day with more empathy and a willingness to listen and really hear what her daughter was trying to communicate. I hope for the sake of the daughter’s well being, and for the sake of the mother-daughter relationship, that was the case.

Preparing for Joyful Birth – Making Peace with my Body

2011-08-19T16:40:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week I posted the original birth story I wrote in the weeks after SchoopyBoy's birth. In the post, I wrote that things had been left unsaid. Things that I now, more than ever, need to face if I am to prepare for a joyful birth this time. In this post, I want to talk about body image, and how my birth experience combined with two consecutive miscarriages left me feeling broken and disconnected from my body.

First, I want to talk about developing pre-eclampsia. I know every woman probably says this, but it really wasn't supposed to happen to me. I was diagnosed with hypertension in my first trimester. This was unexpected given my reasonably healthy lifestyle - lots of fresh and healthy foods, regular exercise, etc. My OB told me I would be lucky to make it to 36 weeks, and told me induction might be likely. I wanted a natural childbirth and I knew I needed to stay healthy if I were to achieve this goal, so I took proactive steps towards that goal. I got nutritional advice and made dietary changes, I took self-hypnosis classes, I went to pre-natal massage, I switched providers to someone who was more supportive of my natural childbirth goals. My risk of pre-eclampsia was about 25%, and I was determined to be in the 75% that does not develop it.

One could say my efforts paid off a bit. I did make it to week 39 before the lab results indicated that my health was indeed heading south. But I was disappointed. Angry. My body had failed me. It hadn’t merely denied me the natural birth I envisioned and hoped for. It threatened the proper function of my critical internal organs. It downright threatened my life, and in doing so my baby’s life.

At 39 weeks, SchmoopyBaby was fine. Better than fine. He was released from the hospital to go home before I was! (We did leave the hospital together just one extra day later.)

Given that both of us ended up fine and healthy, I could have moved on, and in fact did.

But then my next pregnancy, two years later, ended in miscarriage. And then so did my next pregnancy after that.

Now, being a feminist, I do in fact believe that I am more than my fertility. I am a complete and whole valid and worthy human being whether I have 8 children, 2 children, 1 child, or no children. That being said, I also identify spiritually with the feminine Creative Goddess, and desire a connection with what I refer to as the Light of Creation.

Given my body’s failings during my pregnancy with SchmoopyBoy and the fact that my next two pregnancies ended in miscarriage, it’s safe to say I’ve been not too pleased with my body’s performance as the feminine Creative Goddess, and felt decidedly unconnected with any Light of Creation.

A couple of months ago, I wrote about how my blood pressure was showing signs of going too high again, so my doctor once again put me on medication. I totally freaked out. I was (am) terrified of reliving what I went through at SchmoopyBoy’s birth. I went into such a state of anxiety that ‘it was happening again’ my blood pressure spiked even more, I got a 3-day migraine, and my digestive system went into a spin. It took me checking into the hospital foe an afternoon and getting labs done – all which came back smashingly normal – to calm down.

This time will not be like last time. This time, the medication is controlling my blood pressure, and at a much lower dose. My blood pressure never got this low during my pregnancy with SchmoopyBoy. I am not swollen the way I was. At this point in my pregnancy with SchoopyBoy I was going to a perinatologist for monitoring twice a week. This time around, my doctor hasn’t even brought up the possibility of needing any kind of monitoring. Everything is on track for a healthy, low risk birth.

I’ve had a few unfortunate experiences along my journey to motherhood. These experiences have taught me a lot, and led me to a path of appreciation and gratitude. I have one wonderful, healthy, energetic, spirited child. I am approaching the end of a surprisingly easy pregnancy. My current physical discomfort this time around is not an indication of impending health crisis, but an indication of a growing, thriving, healthy baby. After all I have experienced, my body appears to be redeeming itself.

It is easy to make peace with my body when my body appears to be making an effort to make peace with me. But what if once again I developed pre-eclampsia in the final weeks and have to face another induction? Would I be able to maintain peace with my body? One of my many learnings is that there are some things in life I can control and some things I cannot control. I cannot control the way my body responds to being pregnant. I can control the food and pharmaceuticals I put in my body, in an effort to optimize the way my body responds to being pregnant. Accepting the limitations of my own power over my body is key to finding peace and acceptance with whatever turn my pregnancy may take (assuming, of course, that whatever turn it takes still results in a live, healthy baby and mama).

I have a lot more to write about my birth experience with SchmoopyBoy. My next post on this topic will delve more into the visceral experience of the birth itself and how it impacted bonding with my newborn as well as my headspace heading into this birth.

A Birth Story and Things Left Unsaid

2011-08-16T12:30:00.000-07:00

In the course of preparing for this upcoming birth, I have come to the realization that I have some lingering trauma from my first birth. Lingering trauma that I realize I need to work through before this baby is born. I’ve known this for a while, but the meeting I had with my doula team last month spurred me into taking a more proactive approach. I reread the birth story I wrote about SchmoopyBaby’s birth in the first few weeks postpartum, and what struck me was everything I did not put into it. This birth story is nothing but the basic facts – this happened, and then that happened. There is nothing about my actual visceral experience - nothing about what I felt, or how it affected my ability to bond with my new child.

During the past several months, I found that I had been approaching this upcoming birth with fear and dread, rather than excitement and joy. Quite frankly, I am terrified of having another experience like my first. I have decided to use my blog as a forum to explore my first birth and postpartum experience. The reasons for this are two-fold. First, like with my miscarriages, I find the act of writing and sharing these stories to be therapeutic. Second, I’ve been carrying some shame and guilt associated with my first birth experience. I know that I am not the only woman to experience these feelings, and if another woman reads my words and feels comforted that she is not alone, then I have accomplished something greater than even my own healing.

Today, I am posting the original birth story that I wrote less than a month after SchmoopyBaby’s birth. The only edits I have made are removing names, for privacy. Over the next week or two I will write a follow up post that delves more into my internal experience and what I am doing to overcome the negativity it left behind.

Without further ado, here is SchmoopyBoy's original birth story.

***********************************

Well, it wasn’t exactly the birth we had envisioned and planned for, but as the saying goes, life is what happens while we’re making other plans. As you know, I had been diagnosed as high-risk early in the pregnancy due to hypertension. On Friday, May 23, I went to the perinatologist for my regular monitoring appointment and my blood pressure was high. They ordered some blood work to be done “stat” and about 4-5 hours later, literally just as I was getting into bed for the night, we got a call from the on-call doctor. The lab results were in and they were not good. My liver enzymes were elevated, as were my uric acid levels. The diagnosis – pre-eclampsia. The doctor’s order – come to the hospital that night to start the induction.

Unfortunately, it being the start of the holiday weekend, my regular doctor was out of town and couldn’t be reached. So the husband and I finished some last minute preparations and by 12:30am I was admitted. The on-call doctor agreed to insert the balloon behind my cervix that night to help get dilation moving faster (I was already at about 1.5cm), with the pitocin to start around 8-9am.

At 8:30am, my doula arrived, and at about 9am the pitocin started. They started it slow, and the contractions were tolerable. At about 4pm my bag of waters burst, and then things changed *a lot*. The balloon had never fallen out, so I thought I still was less than 4 cm dilated. With so much ahead of me, there was no way I was going to be able to tolerate the pain and asked for an epidural. Before they would administer it, they removed the balloon and checked my progress. I was at 8 cm! No wonder the pain was so bad – I was in transition!

I thought I didn’t have much longer, maybe 15 minutes or a half hour, so I passed on the epidural. Wishful thinking on my part, thus started the most agonizing 3 hours I have ever experienced. The pitocin contractions never let up, even when it was time to push. I was surprised, but relieved to see my regular doctor come in during the pushing. Apparently he made it back into town and hearing the news that delivery was imminent, he came to the hospital. Yay!

They were having a hard time getting the baby’s heart rate on the external monitor, so we agreed to a variation of the internal monitor that sticks to the baby’s head rather than screws into it. His heart rate dropped extremely low (50 beats/min) at each push, and he was too far down for a c-section, so the doctor initiated an emergency vacuum extraction, which necessitated an episiotomy due to the swelling caused by the quick exit. The cord was wrapped once around SchmoopyBaby’s neck, but that wasn’t really the problem. SchmoopyBaby had the cord in his hand, squeezed in a little death grip.

In all I think the hospital staff tried as best they could to follow our birth plan, even with the complications.

Little SchmoopyBaby was fine, and has been doing very well ever since. He was 19 inches long and just 6 lbs, so he is a little guy. He is feeding like a champ though, so hopefully we’ll see him grow soon enough.

Picture Thursday - 33 weeks pregnant

2011-08-11T22:14:00.000-07:00

The funny thing is that I think this picture makes me look small. I look a lot bigger in real life.

Gratitude Post - 08/08/11

2011-08-08T12:23:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Amanda at Lets Take the Metro, I am attempting to post 5 things for which I am grateful each week. Here are this week's top 5:

1. Air conditioning – I totally stole this idea from Amanda, but so true. I live in the desert southwest, where temperatures well over 100 degrees F are the norm all summer, and where air conditioning is a way of life. I really feel for the people further east who are not accustomed to such temperatures and don’t have air conditioning.

2. Ice cream – Do I really need to explain this? In the middle of summer, what is better than a cold sweet treat after dinner? I don’t indulge very often, but I did over the weekend and had a very happy mouth and tummy.

3. Great co-workers – Last week my coworkers through me a little breakfast baby shower. It was very sweet. I’m lucky to have so many friendly, supportive co-workers.

4. Afternoon naps – Naps in my household are becoming an increasing rarity. When they do happen on a weekend and I can take advantage of the opportunity to get a little extra (much needed!) sleep myself, it is fantastic.

5. Spare pillow – Remembering how uncomfortable I was whenever trying to sleep while pregnant with SchmoopyBoy, I bought a big, firm, king sized pillow a few months back and have been using it to support my belly and legs when I sleep at night. I feel such a difference when I lay down without it for more than a few minutes. I’m thankful to be so privileged that I can splurge on such a thing that makes such a big difference in my comfort.

3 Year Old Need - Not Less, Just Different

2011-08-04T22:30:00.000-07:00

My 3-year old just graduated from the parent-toddler swimming class to the just plain toddler swimming class. Not because he can swim safely independently now - he can't quite yet - but because he no longer needs the security of a parent with him in the water. This last Tuesday was his first day trying out the new class. He loved it. He mouthed through the glass behind which parents sit and wait, "I'm swimming by myself!" He didn't want to leave when the class was over. He wanted more fun swimming in the pool with his new teacher.

It is somewhat bittersweet for me. I love seeing him grow more independent. He is so proud that he can do things by himself now, and I delight in his new and growing repertoire of accomplishments. At the same time... my baby doesn't need me anymore! sniff.

But then when we finally left and he dashed along the sidewalk towards the car, he tripped and went sliding face down, scraping his knees and elbows, and giving himself a round red bump on his forehead. He spent the next 10 minutes curled up in my lap crying, his hand up my shirt holding the mole on my side (his go-to-comfort place on my body since he weaned) and drinking a sippy of milk.

So maybe he still does need me for something.

It's not just the physical hurts that require 'mama love'. Bad dreams, hurt feelings at playschool, his upset if he wakes up late after I have left for work in the morning - such experiences all expose his need for physical and emotional connection with me.

It is one of my unexpected observations of parenting - that my child's need for me does not, in fact, grow less as he grows older and more physically independent. I had assumed that it would, but SchmoopyBoy's need for me still appears so great. While it is not less per se, it is qualitatively different. Whereas he needed me to do more for him in the past, he now seems to need me to be emotionally available for him more than ever. I have spoken with other mothers of toddlers and older children who have confirmed this experience with their own children.

Learning to parent at each new stage of development continues to surprise and challenge me. My every expectation gets turned upside down on its head. My independently swimming, self-dressing big boy who demands privacy when using the bathroom is still in many ways my schmoopybaby.

Bentos - Fun with cookie cutters

2011-07-29T12:28:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've posted any bentos, and I've been trying to up my cute-factor ever so slightly with the help of cookie cutters. These two look very similar since they both include cheese and watermelon, and use the same bento box. In reality they were done several weeks apart. Although I used the cookie cutters on the bread and cheese in both bentos shown here, I've also used them on other types of sandwiches at lunchtime and on toast or french toast for breakfast.

First up, we have the star bento:
This one has a tier of watermelon and grapes, and another tier with 3 layers of star-shaped toast and muenster cheese, baby carrots, and a small slice of homemade banana bread. I realized much later in the day I should have omitted the banana bread because it had walnuts in it and SchmoopyBoy's school is supposed to be nut-free. Whoops, totally forgot about the walnuts. I'm so glad no one was hurt.

I used the smallest start cookie cutter from a set I bought with 4 different sizes. This size is sufficient to cut 3 stars from a single slice of bread and a single slice of cheese. It also fits perfectly in my 2-tier bento box.

Second, we have the car bento:
This one has the first tier filled with just watermelon. (SchmoopyBoy takes after his mama - loves him some watermelon!). The second tier has sliced cucumber and some corn sliced off the cob, as well as a two layers of toast and muenster cheese in the shape of a car. My car cookie cutter is the right size to cut 2 cars from a single slice of bread and a single slice of cheese.

The car cookie cutter came in a set of transportation themed cutters that also included a train and an airplane. I took SchmoopyBoy with me to pick the set. I was sure he'd go for the animal shapes, but he's quite happy with the transportation set. The train and airplane don't fit in the bento box shown, and they are sufficiently big that I can only get one cutout per slice of bread/cheese. The train in particular is plenty popular.

How I got my kid to eat kale

2011-07-26T06:00:00.000-07:00

Kale Chips!

I don't know what took me so long to try these. I've heard about kale chips for quite some time. They sounded intriguing and easy to make. Just do an internet search for kale chips and you'll find oodles of recipes. Here's what I did:

Baked Kale Chips

1 small bunch of kale
2 tbsp olive oil
sea salt

Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees F. Optional - Line a cookie sheet with foil for easier clean-up. Wash the kale. Cut or tear the kale off the thick stems in "chip-size" pieces and arrange on the cookie sheet. Dribble the olive oil over the kale and toss to coat. Generously sprinkle sea salt over the kale. Bake for 10-15 minutes.

All the recipes I found said to bake until the edges of the kale were brown. I first tried 10 minutes and it looked like they weren't done yet. So I put them in for another 5 minutes and a lot of the kale along the sides of the sheet were burnt. I'm thinking about 12 minutes would have been about right. I recommend checking every couple of minutes after 10 to make sure they are cooked to your satisfaction but not completely brown.

Here's a picture of my chips cooling. You can see the ones on the edges are completely brown and overcooked. The brown ones aren't bad, but the greener ones are definitely better.

How they were received by my 3-year old
SchmoopyBoy is going through a period where he's pretty much been avoiding all cooked vegetables except corn on the cob. Most of the time pretty much the only veggies he will eat are plain raw carrots, cucumber and occasionally peas. As much as I'm all in favor of him eating fresh raw vegetables, there's not a lot of variety in the mix. I keep putting whatever veggies I've cooked on his plate, just to eat them myself when he is done with his meal. I do know that he likes to snack on chips on occasion when we have them. So when out of the blue I offered him chips, he was all excited. That is, until he looked at his plate and saw green crinkly things. His face was very skeptical. I think I did a pretty good job of selling them, if I do say so myself. "Look! They're green! We get to eat green chips today! Isn't that fun?" All it took was one bite and they were declared "Mmm, yummy!" with a bright smile.

This one is a keeper.

Gratitude Post - 7/24/11

2011-07-24T13:52:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Amanda at Lets Take the Metro, I am posting 5 things for which I am grateful each week. Here are this week's top 5:

1. Pancake breakfasts made by the husband – I have a confession to make. I don’t do cooking for breakfast. A fried egg on toast is as complicated as I get, if I have the time. Otherwise it’s typically cereal, cereal, and more cereal. Forget about mixing batter for pancakes, waffles, or even French toast for that matter. That’s why having a husband whose forte is breakfast is awesome. My favorite is his whole wheat pancakes (note everything he cooks is vegan, it pretty much comes with the territory of having a vegan husband). Both last weekend and this morning he made my favorite and I ate more than my share. Speaking of the husband…

2. Picking up my slack without complaint - The husband and I share typically share the chores around the house. This includes daily kitchen clean up which usually get done at night after I’ve put SchmoopyBoy to sleep. Lately, however, I’ve been super tired so I’ve been falling asleep while putting SchmoopyBoy to bed a lot. This also means I’ve been leaving the kitchen is a state of post-dinner chaos. The husband has totally been picking up my slack. If he complains about anything, it is not that he is doing more than his share of kitchen cleanup chores, but that we haven’t had as much “us” time to talk at night the way we usually do. I’ve got to appreciate a person who laments the loss of talking together more than all the extra chores he’s picked up lately.

3. Having a swimming pool – I’m in my 3rd trimester and I am officially big and uncomfortable. One of the most comfortable places I can be is in a swimming pool with the water pressure holding up my belly and pushing the fluid surrounding my feet and ankles back into my veins. I’ve been able to get into a pool several times a week for the past couple weeks. It’s been heavenly. Oh, how I wish I had this kind of access to a pool when I was pregnant with SchmoopyBoy!

4. Squirmy McKickersons, which is how I’ve been referring to afore-mentioned yet-unnamed child - Some days it feels like this baby never sleeps. He goes from playing bongos on my bladder, to trying to push an alternative exit route through my side, to using my intestines as a trampoline, and so on. While it certainly is not comfortable, it is a constant reminder that my baby is alive, growing, and thriving, for which I am grateful.

5. Really nice hand me down children’s bedding – My sister in law has two boys that are 3 and 6 years older than SchmoopyBoy. Both of them have gone through periods in which they loved Thomas the Train. Consequently they’ve had Thomas merchandise galore – books, train toys, clothing, etc – most of which has made its way into my house as my nephews have grown out of them. This has fueled SchmoopyBoy’s own love of trains and Thomas in particular. (Oddly enough, he’s only seen the show maybe 3 times if that, and never at home, since we don’t have cable and the clips we found on You Tube are mostly fakes that are not child-appropriate. But the train toys... Oh, the train toys!) Our most recent acquisition is a complete set of bed sheets, in excellent condition. Yesterday we took them home, washed them, and made his bed with the set. SchmoopyBoy positively beamed when he saw them. He loves loves loves his “new bed”!

Interesting Kabbalistic Thoughts on Children and Parents

2011-07-22T06:00:00.000-07:00

This came in the Daily Kabbalah Tune Up for this last Wednesday, July 20:

Children choose their parents prior to conception. When a soul is in the Upper World, it chooses parents who will be able to provide it with the spiritual and physical DNA necessary for the child to achieve the personal transformation for which it comes into this life.

Both the child and its parents create for each other the opportunity to grow, evolve, and transform.

These opportunities are especially obvious during parent-child conflicts.

Interesting idea, although it brings a lot of unsettling questions into my mind. Particularly with respect to (1) situations in which abuse or neglect is involved, and (2) infertility.

With respect to abuse/neglect, I have such a hard time believing that souls choose to suffer in their lifetimes on this earth. What about infanticide? What about the many children that are abused, literally to death? When a soul is taken from this life too young to "achieve the personal transformation for which it comes into this life" how can the soul have chosen such a fruitless path to transformation?

With respect to infertility, Does this include foster or adoptive parents, or is it limited to biological parents? What about parents who have children through donor gametes or sperm, or use a gestational surrogate? This really brings up the question in my mind of what/who is a parent in the 'eyes' of a soul, so to speak.

It's been something like 4 years since I've been to the local Kabbalah Center, but I would be interested in discussing this with someone more advanced in Kabbalistic knowledge and theory than myself. What do you think of this theory?

Finally some good news in the war against women

2011-07-21T12:23:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago the Institute of Medicine came out with a formal recommendation that birth control, breast-feeding assistance (including breast-pump rentals), counseling for domestic violence, and annual wellness exams and HIV tests be covered with no cost to patients under the health-care reform bill. You can read news stories about the report here and here, among I'm sure many other news sources.

In a year where we've seen law makers attempt to defund agencies that provide vital women's health care services like Planned Parenthood, as well as cut funding for agencies that provide basic nutritional support for low income women and children like WIC, I'm happy and relieved with the recommendations. At last, science and logic over anti-woman extremism!

Of course, there's no guarantee that the recommendations will be followed. There is still a very vocal contingent that feels the need to continually attack the physical autonomy of half the U.S. population under the excuse of "but funding birth control is like funding abortion!!!!"

Umm, no. Actually, it's not.

I can appreciate that a lot of people are opposed to abortion. I am unapologetically pro-choice myself, but I get that there are people out there that have genuine moral issues with the idea.

News flash. If you want to decrease the number of abortions, you need to cut down on the number of unintended pregnancies. Period. Full stop. End of story.

Another news flash. Women have sex. Period. Full stop. End of story.

Given these two indisputable facts, it follows that making birth control available to all women who don't want to get pregnant is a good idea.

So says she who has lost multiple wanted pregnancies.

If you agree with this premise and want to do something to help implement these recommendations, click here to sign a petition to Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius in support of them.

Hilarious, and Not so Hilarious

2011-07-19T12:57:00.000-07:00

Hilarious:
I was being naughty at work on Monday and went to check out Hobo Mama’s Sunday Surf where I found what might be the most hilarious post ever, for anyone who appreciates a good (and illustrated!) poopy story, which we all know I do. So there I was trying not to laugh out loud, for fear of bothering my office mate, which of course just made my laugh more shrill and obnoxious. My poor office mate has to put up with so much, between phone calls from my husband whenever SchmoopyBoy has a meltdown, and random evidence of my wasting valuable work time by laughing hysterically at random poopy stories on the web. But seriously, this one is goood. And, if you stop by sometime in the next year, this is going to be my life. Check out the rest of the blog too - funny, funny stuff.

Not quite so hilarious:
SchmoopyBoy’s language skills and sense of humor have been developing more and more. Somewhere along the line, he picked up an idea that toilet functions are funny. Don’t ask me where he learned that, I just live here… what? So, we’re now at the stage where every other word out of his mouth is “pee-pee” or “poo-poo”. I’m ashamed to confess I did crack up the first time or two it happened, more because I was surprised than anything, but of course that just encouraged him. So now, a typical conversation in my home goes something like this:

Me: Do you want butter toast or jelly toast?

SB: Poo-poo toast!

or

SB: Come play with me!

Me: OK. Would you like to play with your trains, or would you like to read some books?

SB: Pee-pee!

Me: I don’t think I want to play with pee-pee. How about trains or books? Or would you prefer to cook something for me in your kitchen?

SB: I cook POO-POO for you!

Me: I don’t think I’d like to eat poo-poo. How about a book? Do you want me to read you this book? (holding up popular book)

SB: Pee-pee book!

Me: sigh.

Even less hilarious:
Even less hilarious is when he yells “pee-pee” as loud as he can, completely randomly and unprovoked, at a restaurant. The looks from concerned and appalled customers, fearful that there’s about to be a stream of yellow heading their direction as they’re trying to enjoy their hard-earned weekend dining experience, are something to truly savor.

I may or may not have mentioned this in an earlier post. Parenting a 3-year old is awesome.

3 things I learned in California this week

2011-07-13T13:52:00.000-07:00

1. When going to the beach with pasty white skin, it is critically important to be mindful about putting sunscreen EVERYWHERE. Otherwise one could end up with lobster red feet and ankles… as well as an assortment of random burned stripes… ehem.

2. After acquiring said sunburn, there are not many options for bathing oneself comfortably. Water too hot, scream-inducing pain on the burnt areas. Water too cold, scream-inducing when the cold water hits your back. Cleaning oneself becomes a scream-inducing, no-win situation.

3. The home remedy I had never heard of for soothing sunburn – applying a wet black tea bag – works! Apparently it’s the tannin in the tea that takes the edge off the burn. Yay for my mom who told me about this home remedy!

Sheesh, you'd think I never went to the beach before. Eight years away from the coast and it's like I never lived anywhere near sunlight!

Wordless Wednesday: Is that comfortable?

2011-07-06T06:00:00.000-07:00

Gratitude Post - 7/3/11

2011-07-03T17:11:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Amanda at Lets Take the Metro, I am posting 5 things for which I am grateful each week. Here are this week's top 5:

1. SchmoopyBoy's strong will - Although it pains me to experience it as a toddler, his strong will and persistence will serve him well as he grows into adulthood. This is a person who knows what he wants, and these qualities will help him succeed at his goals.

2. Three-day holidays - In honor of the July 4th Independence Day holiday, I get an extra day to spend with my family this weekend! Hopefully I won't need a weekend to recover from my long weekend. ;)

3. Quaint restaurants near my office that serve breakfast all day - Usually I bring my lunch to work, but on Friday I was running late and didn't have time to throw together much other than a few snacks, like fruit and yogurt. So, I went to a charming restaurant in a local hotel that I didn't even know existed with some co-workers. Turns out they serve breakfast all day. Omelet and bagel for lunch? And I can get a side salad from the lunch menu to go with it? I just hit the lunch menu jackpot! nom nom nom

4. Phone calls from old friends - I don't have much of a social community in my adopted town, so it is particularly meaningful for me to keep in touch with my old friends. This week I got a surprise call from an old friend that I haven't spoken with for about a month. It was great to hear from her.

5. Trip to the hair salon - I am really bad about taking time for myself for things like getting a hair cut. It has literally been since January that I got a hair cut, and it really showed. I treated myself to a Groupon for a hair cut and style at a fancy salon, which I took advantage of yesterday. I spent 2 hours being primped like a movie star, and when I got home my husband and child hardly recognized me! SchmoopyBoy told me my hair looked so shiny, and after requesting that I put a flower clip in my hair, told me I looked "like a princess".

I am going out of town next week to visit family in California, so I will likely miss out on next week's gratitude post. See you when I get back!

Celebrating my friend with a Virtual Toast

2011-06-29T12:15:00.000-07:00

This week I got the news that one of my old friends from my undergraduate days just finished her master’s program. This is a woman who has been working a full-time job (in a less than satisfying field) and mothering two children while slowly persuing her degree in a field that she loves and has always excelled. She has persevered through numerous challenges to meet this goal including pregnancy and raising a new baby, various health challenges, and the threat of layoff while providing the sole income for her family. This is a huge accomplishment and I am so proud of and excited for her!

Unfortunately we now live on opposite ends of the country so I cannot celebrate with her in person.

D, I hereby raise a glass in a virtual toast to your dedication, hard work, and inspiring can-do attitude. You are awesome!

Gratitude Post - 6/27/11

2011-06-27T15:40:00.000-07:00

I discovered the weekly gratitude post by Amanda at Let’s Take the Metro through Zoie at TouchstoneZ, who also posted about five things she is grateful for. What great inspiration! How could I not participate?! So, without further delay, here is my list of 5 things for which I am grateful this week.

1. Communication with SchmoopyBoy – I’ve been struggling a bit with some of SchmoopyBoy’s behavior lately. He knows how to press my buttons to get my attention. I’ve been trying to work with him on this, explaining how, when he wants more attention from me, I want him to use words and tell me “Mommy, I want more attention now.” Sometimes, I have felt like talking with my 3 year old is like talking to a brick wall. This last Saturday morning we were playing amidst a sea of giant foam letters and numbers. He wanted to find some toy or another and I suggested that we put away the letters in case the toy was under them, it would be easier to find it. I started collecting the letters to put them in their proper bag, and soon got distracted with clean-up work. SchmoopyBoy was much more interested in continuing playtime than getting involved in clean-up, and lo and behold, he exclaimed “Mommy, I need attention now!” No throwing. No hitting. Just an exclamation of his needs at that moment. I felt so gratified, of course I immediately dropped what I was doing and tackled my schmoopyboy into a fit of giggling glee. The entire day did not go quite as smoothly as that morning went, but I made a point that night at bedtime to focus on the positive and told him how much I liked it when he communicated his need for attention to me that morning using words, because it makes it so much easier for me to meet his needs when I he tells me clearly what he wants.

2. Our local CSA Farm – I know I gush about it periodically, but really it is making a difference in how we eat. The diversity of fresh vegetables forces me to be more creative in the kitchen (I keep meaning to share some of my recipe experiment successes). The quality can’t be beat, and I love being more connected with my food – knowing who grows it and how it is grown. On a related note…

3. Home-grown tomatoes – So cliché, I almost couldn’t stand to write it, but Oh good heavens the difference in flavor! Seriously, I never want to eat another store-bought tomato again. Between the little tomato plant that we are raising at home and the tomatoes from the farm, I’m hoping I won’t need to subject myself to those flavorless store-tomatoes for quite some time. nom nom nom.

4. The blogging community! – I get so much inspiration from the blogosphere. As I mentioned in my opening, this very post is inspired by bloggers Amanda and Zoie! It is uncanny how frequently I discover a series of posts that is exactly what I need to read during a particular time. (Sneak preview, I have another post in progress that is inspired by the posts these ladies wrote for the Mindful Mama Carnival. I have been conscious that I’ve been struggling with mindfulness for quite some time. Several of the posts I read during the carnival have inspired me to be more proactive in my journey. I’m hoping to have my thoughts put into place by the end of this week!)

5. Parent-toddler swimming lessons – At 27 weeks pregnant, my lower back and hips are giving me all kinds of ouchie reminders that I’ll be birthing a baby soon. I take SchmoopyBoy to a parent-toddler swim class every Sunday morning. Classes are a half hour of fun time for SchmoopyBoy, in which he is learning critical life-saving water skills, and a half hour of water pressure induced physical relief for me. I SO need to get into a pool more often!

Wordless Wednesday - Homemade Fathers' Day Card

2011-06-22T22:03:00.000-07:00

Plus bonus birthday card for his cousin.

Summer Solstice today

2011-06-21T07:48:00.001-07:00

For those of us in the northern hemisphere today is the summer solstice.

Check out this link with lots of cool photos of summer solstice celebrations around the world. My uncle and aunt are at Machu Pichu as I am writing this. Hope they are having a great time!

Three Open Letters - One of them is to YOU!

2011-06-18T06:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Ankles,

Farewell. I hope to see you again before September. If not, have a great summer resting under that layer of poof. I’ll miss you and look forward to seeing you again this fall.

Cheers,
Shana

************

Dear Monsters,

It was bad enough when you first started visiting my son’s room at bedtime. Now, however, you are plaguing him all night and all day. At first you were willing to read his sign and stay out of his room. I appreciated your cooperation at that time. Now it appears that you are unwilling to negotiate, and you threaten him with your presence anywhere upstairs, as well as going so far as to haunt his dreams and following him to school. Surely you must understand that the current situation is unsustainable and unacceptable. I simply cannot allow you to continue to terrorize my child in this manner. Please vacate the premises. If we cannot come to an agreement on your departure, I will have no choice but to take evasive measures.

Thank you for cooperation in this urgent matter,
Shana

*******************

Dear Readers,

I am currently soliciting suggestions on how to exorcize monsters from my household. Please leave any and all suggestions in the comments. Help!

Thanks!
Shana

Updates

2011-06-16T12:10:00.000-07:00

I wanted to start out with a follow up to my last "oh boo hoo, poor me" post. Thanks for refraining from any "would you like some cheese with your whine" comments. I'm sure I deserved a few.

Anyway, I did have a bit of a scare over the weekend, but things are looking better now. Of course after my appointment last week I pretty much freaked out. I woke up with a migraine headache on Friday, which I fought all weekend long, and my blood pressure readings were right at that borderline of where my doctor told me to go in if it hit that level (150 for the top number, 100 for the bottom, in case you are wondering). I kept making excuses for the headache - I got a kink in my neck so that is making my head hurt, the temperature reached over 100 and I'm still adjusting and figuring out how much water I need to drink to stay hydrated, blah blah blah. But then when I randomly got really nauseous on Sunday morning and threw up part of my breakfast, the husband and I decided I needed to take these symptoms seriously and I went in to the hospital. They took a bunch of labs, all of which came back completely normal. They took my blood pressure every 10-15 minutes for several hours, and while the readings were somewhat elevated, they were nowhere close to the readings I was getting on my little CVS home blood pressure gage. They suggested that the accuracy of my gage was off and I should use one at a drug store to supplement the readings I was getting at home. They also increased my medication a little bit and let me go home.

I've pretty much been fine ever since I got that confirmation. It looks like I probably suffered more from a head trip than a genuine physical problem. I'm not completely off the hook yet. I went in for my follow up appointment this morning and he's going to keep me on the higher dose of blood pressure meds, but as long as I am getting decent readings there's no need for additional unnecessary freak-outs.

I should write that on a sticky note and plaster it on my forehead.

***************************

On a happier note, I think I found the person I want to be my doula for the birth! She doesn't have quite as much experience as the doula we spoke with a week ago (9 months versus 3 years), but she's got this amazingly calming energy. Just sitting next to her and hearing her voice you can't help but feel a little more relaxed. She actually partners with the doula we spoke with last week, so we can either hire them both as a team, or just her alone. We are just trying to decide if we want to spend a little more to have the peace of mind that we also have someone very experienced with a variety of complications and midwife skills (should the need arise), or if we want to just stick with the one person whose "vibe" for lack of a better word, just really seems to mesh well and trust that she has sufficient training and experience to deal with whatever comes up.

Here we go again

2011-06-09T12:08:00.000-07:00

I haven't been posting much besides fluff for the past several weeks because, truth be told, I haven't been in a very good head space lately and I haven't been wanting to write about it. Between pregnancy hormones making me increasingly.... shall I say, emotionally unstable, being chronically tired and sleep deprived, and the intolerable three-ness of SchmoopyBoy's behavior lately, I've been having a lot of not so great days. (Don't know what I'm talking about by intolerable three-ness? Check out the warnings left by Liz of Mom-101, then again by Annie of PhD in Parenting, and then again fairly recently by Dionna of Code Name: Mama. Intolerable three-ness, yes we are there. There's a whole post coming just on that alone, I'm sure.)

But again, I digress. What I am getting around to writing about in a very meandering and procrastinating way is the risk status of my current pregnancy and why this is turning out to be yet another not-so-great day, in which I indulge in all kinds of whining, venting and self indulgent miserating.

So yesterday we went to interview a prospective doula. My previous doula team was completely awesome and fantastic and I would totally be all over hiring either one of them again. One is now a practicing midwife, and the other is pursuing her D.O. in plans of opening a birthing center in this city. Fantastic for them, unfortunate for me. But, there are other talented doulas in the sea and I'm in the process of finding the right person for this time around. Anyway, we were talking to this doula yesterday, who is also currently in training to be a midwife. I told her about my history with PIH and pre-eclampsia and how SchmoopyBoy's birth was induced at 39 weeks because my liver started malfunctioning. She asked me how this pregnancy was going and asked if I was interested in having her check my blood pressure. I agreed, expecting it to be fine, the way its been throughout this pregnancy so far. Well, wouldn't you know it, lo and behold it was high. Like, not good high. I thought maybe I'm just a little anxious, meeting a new prospective doula, being in a overall general funk, a little stressed about this, that and another thing.

This morning I had my appointment with my OB. My blood pressure was high again. The nurse took it once, and the doctor took it himself two more times just to make sure. It was high. So now I'm back on blood pressure medication and I've been instructed to monitor my blood pressure 3 times a day and keep a log. I'm also to go back to the doctor's office in a week to see if the medication is helping, and, I'm to go directly to the Labor and Delivery section of the hospital for treatment instead of the ER if I get any severe headaches, see black spots, or start to feel really bad. (Not for delivery at 24 weeks, thank goodness, but for treatment because I'll get it immediately instead of waiting in an ER waiting room for hours and they'll know exactly what treatment to administer and be able to contact my OB immediately.)

Needless to say, I'm not happy about this development.

Sheesh, what the heck do I have to do to have one healthy, normal pregnancy that concludes with a natural labor birthing a healthy baby?!

I was really, really hoping for a natural labor this time around. I so want to experience a completely non-medicated birth. Getting induced really sucked. I got through it without any pain medication, and good heavens, it sucked so hard I won't even get into it here. Maybe another time, but not now. I still am hoping for a natural labor, but given this new development, I feel deflated and defeated. This is my fifth and last pregnancy, hopefully to conclude with my second and last child. I am done after this and I just wanted so much to have a single "normal, healthy" pregnancy. How disappointing. I am incredibly grateful to have one fabulous healthy child, and will be even more grateful if this pregnancy ends with another healthy child. I'm just disappointed I can't seem to be able to enjoy the process more.

The awesomeness of fresh blackberries

2011-06-03T05:51:00.000-07:00

I'm not talking about handheld electronic devices here. Nor am I talking about the containers of berries that you can buy at the grocery store. I'm talking "picked that morning at the farm" fresh blackberries. Holy sweet yumminess, batman! I had no idea blackberries could be this good!

I tell you, I love my local CSA farm more and more as time goes on. This week we got 2 glorious packages of blackberries. One of them was polished off with little fanfare - no recipes, no jams, no tarts - just pick them up, pop them in your mouth, and wash your purple fingers after the nom nom frenzy.

I did use part of the second package in an impromptu smoothie, which was so good I thought I'd share. Double bonus - I was able to use up an over ripe banana that no one wanted to eat on its own as well as some of SchmoopyBoy's left over yogurt. Unfortunately there are no pictures because I pretty much inhaled the glass as soon as it hit my lips. So good.

Banana Blackberry Smoothie

1 very ripe banana
1/2 cup fresh blackberries
3/4 cup milk (or milk substitute, I used soymilk)
1/3-1/2 carton banana strawberry coconut milk yogurt

Throw all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth.

Note: Unless you have an unusually long tongue, you can't lick the blender clean, however much you may want to. Not that I tried or anything, just saying...

The verdict is in, I'm having a...

2011-06-02T12:10:00.000-07:00

boy!

Oh, the irony. Before we were married, I told my husband-to-be, "I hope having sons isn't really important to you. My line of women doesn't birth sons. I don't think I am even physically capable of carrying a male child to term."

At least four generations of women in my direct maternal line have only had female children. My great-grandmother birthed 8 children - all girls. My grandmother had two girls, each of which had two girls. Before SchmoopyBoy, my cousins had each had a girl.

And now, it's going to be me and a house full of testosterone. Heck, even my dog is male.

I like to joke with my friends that have girl children, "if the poop and fart jokes get too bad, I'm borrowing your kid for the day". Oh please, who am I kidding? I love me some poop and fart jokes. You people have no idea how I refrain from sharing random tooty stories. I refrain people, I do. 'Cause, darn it, toilet humor is hilarious - to me and 5 year olds at least.

But I digress. (What, me? Digressing about toots? Shocking, I know) ...ehem...

Yes, little Kickypants appears to have boy-parts. Now I will get the privilege of raising two good feminist allies. I hope I am worthy and able to live up to my expectations.

Wordless Wednesday - Planes, Trains, and (blurry) Birthday Cake

2011-06-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

Wordless Wednesday - Attention All Monsters

2011-05-25T06:00:00.000-07:00

Per his request, SchmoopyBoy's room is a monster-free zone... especially at bedtime.

Letter to Schmoopy - And now you are three

2011-05-24T12:10:00.000-07:00

Dear SchmoopyBoy,

Last night you went to sleep a 2 year old for the last time. Tonight when you go to sleep you will be three. Three! You’ve been my SchmoopyBaby for three whole years! I managed to only cry once today before 7am. It is now not yet 10:30 as I am writing this, and I have cried a good deal more since then (thank goodness my officemate is on travel today).

This morning you woke up early at 5:45am and climbed into my bed. I was already up and getting ready for work downstairs when I heard the pitter-pat of your feet. You wanted to sleep next to me for a while, so I climbed back into bed with you. You are still so deliciously small, and you are so affectionate. Although weaned, you still crave the closeness of my body and are comforted by the feeling of my skin. You placed one hand on the mole on my side, and with the other hand pulled my face towards yours and draped your arm across my body, resting your hand on my arm. Then you drifted back to sleep, breathing deeply into my face. I so wanted to luxuriate in our closeness, while simultaneously feeling the pull of duty… the morning chores – making lunches and taking out the trash… the little kickypants in my belly reminding me “Hey Mom, when you are hungry I am hungry. Get up and eat!” As frequently happens, even in your sleep you read my mind. Something in body language changed and you knew I was considering moving away from you. Your little leg slid on top of mine, your foot resting on my thigh, holding me in place. So I rested next to you a little longer before quietly dragging myself away.

About a half hour after I went downstairs you woke again, this time for the day. You greeted me cheerily when you saw me tidying the play area, and then you spotted the first of the birthday presents I bought for you – a small play kitchen, which your father and I stayed up last night to assemble. You were quite excited and began to play with it immediately. It didn’t make any difference to you that it is a small, inexpensive, flimsy plastic kitchen rather than one of those beautiful, big, wooden kitchens that I drool over. You delighted in opening and closing the oven doors, you took the lids off and on the little pots, and inspected all the utensils. You didn’t mind that there was no actual play food either, and continued to cook and serve blocks and crayons, as you have been doing for as long as you’ve been play cooking and serving.

Tonight when I get home from work we will go to your grandparents’ house, where we will eat pizza and cake with your cousins. You have been asking for birthday cake for a couple of weeks now, so I hope you get your fill tonight.

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy. I love you more and more with every passing day and every passing year.

Love,
Mom

Cads, Criminals, and the Media

2011-05-19T10:03:00.000-07:00

Trigger warning for discussion of rape
Cecily at Uppercase Woman referred me to this excellent article by Kate Harding that critiques the way the mainstream media has been discussing the rape allegations of Dominique Strauss-Kahn as well as the historical coverage of Arnold Schwarzenegger's "groping problem" and latest news of adultery.

I must quote a bit of the Harding article here, because I know a few certain individuals, ehem, you know who you are, that won't bother clicking the link, and I think this is really important:

So, whether Strauss-Kahn is “the great seducer,” for instance, has very little to do with whether he might also be “the great rapist,” because rape is not actually seduction gone pear-shaped. It’s a whole different thing! Similarly, any consensual affairs Schwarzenegger had over the years have very little to do with his “groping problem,” which would probably be better described as “a problem with giving a tiny rat’s ass about consent.”

That’s not to say these things are entirely unrelated, mind you. There are certainly points of overlap between being a cad and being a criminal: An overblown sense of entitlement, an apparent lack of empathy for anyone you might hurt, an erection. But cheating on your wife is not a gateway drug to sexual assault. They are two different things, one of them a crime. If you’re a journalist, please take a moment now to repeat that to yourself a few times.

And then please consider this: A man who’s known for grabbing women’s breasts and asses without their consent (a crime) is not just some amusing, slightly pathetic Pepe Le Pew cartoon until the day someone accuses him of non-consensual penetration. He was actually already a sexual predator! And yet, inevitably, as soon as someone does accuse him of rape, friends who are familiar with his history of non-consensual groping will rush to tell the press that the accusations are absurd, insulting, inconceivable! Sure, everyone knew the lion liked to chase gazelles and pin them down and bat them around a bit for fun, but he would never eat one. That’s just not in his nature.

Do you see the difference? One guy treats women rather shabbily, and he should be ashamed of himself. The other guy treats women like inanimate objects he is entitled to do whatever the fuck he wants to, and he should be ashamed of himself and also held legally responsible for his crimes. The line between the two is really not all that fine or blurry, you guys! It’s actually pretty recognizable!

Who, me? I'm a Versatile Blogger?!

2011-05-14T12:03:00.000-07:00

Maria at Life, Loss, and Other Things Worth Mentioning has given me The Versatile Blogger Award! What a surprise and honor! It amazes me that something I started as a hobby to keep my out of town family and friends involved in my life has actually touched the lives of strangers. I am horrendously late at responding to Maria's award and hate to appear ungrateful, so better late than never.

The rules of the award are as follows:
1.Link back to the person/s that gave you the award.
2.Award other bloggers the award-up to 15 recently discovered bloggers.
3.Contact the bloggers that you have awarded to let them know that they have won.
4.Tell 7 things about yourself ( I suppose they should be lesser known facts to the blogworld!)

Seven things about myself:

1. Next week I'm taking my first overnight business trip since before SchmoopyBoy was born and I'm kind of terrified. Excited by the potential for some extra sleep that night, but largely terrified.

2. My son is in the middle of potty training. Consequently, there are dinosaur, Toy Story, and Mickey Mouse underpants ALL OVER my house. Mostly because we keep them in the downstairs bathroom, and it seems like every time he goes in the room he takes at least one pair (if not many) and uses them as fashion accessories (think hats and bracelets mostly) which are later discarded in random places.

3. My son "tried to kill me" before he was born through severe dehydration during the first half of my pregnancy followed by pre-eclampsia at the end. Therefore, I don't feel too guilty indulging in embarrassing details like #2 above. He deserves a little payback, I like to think.

4. We just started trying to grow vegetables in our yard. We have several pots growing tomatoes, onions, broccoli, and a few herbs. So far we haven't killed anything, and in fact our tomato plant has 2 little tomato buds growing!

5. I have a secret (well, not so secret now) pipe dream of turning some of the more successful stories I've made up for SchmoopyBoy into published children's books.

6. I considered writing something about my losses for National Infertility Awareness Week, but couldn't bring myself to do it. I felt hypocritical and insensitive posting while pregnant. I mean, for crying out loud, I recently posted pictures of my pregnant belly, the last thing a woman struggling with infertility needs is to be drawn in by a post for NIAW just to see pregnant belly pictures a couple posts down.

7. I am absolutely awful when it comes to discovering and following new bloggers. I have maybe 10 blogs that I follow reasonably regularly, but I hardly ever comment and hardly ever branch out to discover new blogs that I am probably very interested in reading.

Given what I just wrote in #7 above, I do have a couple of blogs to pass this award to - some of my more recent (but not super recent) discoveries that I like a lot.

TouchstoneZ - I discovered Zioe at TouchstoneZ during the March of Kindness. She's a wonderfully articulate writer about gentle parenting issues - green living, gentle discipline, etc. I also love that she includes her angel baby in her Letters to Littles. I admire her openness and candid talk about her struggles with PPD, a topic with which I am well enough acquainted that sometimes her words are difficult to read because they hit so close to home.

Mama Jorje - I discovered Mama Jorje through the Carnival of Natural Parenting, which I sadly have not participated in for months and months. She was struggling to find balance as a slightly crunchy mama who worked out of the house full time - I could relate all too well! I always find interesting reads on her Sunday Surf posts, and have really been enjoying her Monday Minimalist series. I am married to a big-time hoarder, and have mild hoarding tendencies myself (although I confess it's mostly laziness on my part), so the idea of minimizing can be quite inspiring.

Thanks again to Maria, my apologies for responding so late. Happy reading everyone!

The fluff you were probably hoping to see on M-Day

2011-05-10T21:23:00.001-07:00

Mothers Day cards I helped SchmoopyBoy make for his grandmothers. He picked out the colors of the construction paper, tissue paper and pipe cleaners. I helped with the cutting and folding. He selected glitter glue to stick the butterflies on the cards and the stickers. He went to town on the stickers. I wrote "Grandma" and "Oma" (grandma in German) on the cards using the glitter glue stick of his choice.

He really enjoyed making the butterflies and wanted to make more last night. He was feeling a little more confident with the scissors so he cut out a few "squares".

Glitter glue is another big hit. In addition to decorating his new butterflies with glitter glue he's been decorating construction paper with glitter glue a couple times a day for the past couple of days.

Sober Thoughts on Mothers Day

2011-05-07T13:50:00.000-07:00

"We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands shall not come to us reeking of carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of
charity, mercy and patience." ~ Julia Ward Howe

Mothers Day in this country was initially proposed as a day for peace activism. Julia Ward Howe wrote her famous Mothers Day proclamation in 1870, being distraught by the death and carnage of the Civil War. She called on mothers to come together and protest what she saw as the futility of their sons killing the sons of other mothers. She called for an international Mothers Day celebrating peace and motherhood. (source)

I want to relate a short story to you. During my first year of graduate school, I had a position teaching College Algebra in the Mathematics department. My first semester, one of my students was an Iraq War veteran. He had a knee injury necessitating his return to the U.S. for treatment. He was completing his service at the local Air Force base and taking classes as his schedule allowed. This war veteran was a kid. Seriously, I don't know if he was even 20 years old. Still baby faced, with clean cut dark blond/light brown hair and blue eyes. Seven years since I taught that class, this boy/man still haunts my memory.

This kid came back from war alive, a fact I'm sure his mother celebrates every day. I imagine my own dark blond/light brown haired and blue eyed son going off to learn to kill or be killed and my stomach absolutely turns.

It's been about 10 years since this country has been at war. How many mothers do not have reason to celebrate this Mothers Day? How many mothers will be spending the day mourning the loss of their children at the hands of war?

Ten years. Ten years!

My next door neighbor has 4 children, between the ages of 5 and 10. None of them have ever known a world without war. How long, I wonder, will it continue?

This year on Mothers Day, I remember the mothers of sons and daughters that are no longer here to celebrate them. May we all live to see peace in our lifetimes, so that our children and the children of all mothers may live to to celebrate all their days.

Things I’ll have to explain to my child one day

2011-05-03T16:16:00.000-07:00

what happened on September 11, 2001

who was Osama Bin Laden

what is a nuclear bomb

what is nuclear radiation and what are the dangers of nuclear power plants

what is global climate change and how have we contributed to it

what is/was peak oil and how will/has it changed the world as we know/knew it

what was the Holocaust

who was Hitler

what is slavery and why does it exist today more than ever before in human history

who would celebrate his death because he “has Jewish blood”

who would celebrate his death because he “has Muslim blood”

who would celebrate his death because he “has Christian blood”

who would celebrate his death because he “has Atheist blood”.

At the present time, his family and day-to-day activities are the world he lives in. How long will he live in this bubble of love, protection, and privilege? How do I teach him to navigate a chaotic, violent world and find hope, joy, and peace along his journey?

Picture Thursday - Portraits Galore (including gratuitous belly)

2011-04-28T12:49:00.000-07:00

For my husband's last photography assignment, he needed a model and a prop in the studio.

This is the picture he turned in for a grade. SchmoopyBoy is the model and my belly is the prop.

In this picture I am the model and my belly is the prop.

These are all just sweet portraits of me with my SchmoopyBoy.

Cute pictures of SchmoopyBoy solo. He is so photogenic!

We joined a CSA and it is awesome

2011-04-22T06:27:00.000-07:00

Last week was the first week of our participation with a local CSA. For anyone who doesn't know, CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture. Basically, you sign up with a local farm, and for a specified amount of money or hours of work at the farm you get a huge basket of fresh, seasonal, locally grown produce. It's a great way to support local family farms and get a variety of fresh foods for your family. You can read more about what a CSA is here.

Last Saturday the JMan drove an hour to the farm and spent 4 hours pulling weeds from a garlic field (no chemical herbicides!) and he brought back a humongous bag full of veggies. In this bag we got:

spinach (large bag)
mixed salad greens (large bag)
kale (1 bunch)
beets (tons)
beet greens (OMG so much!)
broccoli (small bag of florets plus a head complete with the large leaves)
carrots (1 bunch)
radishes (1 bunch)

In other words - more leafy greens than 2 adults and a toddler can possibly eat in a week! We've been eating salad plus sautéed or otherwise cooked veggies every day this week, which is just what my pregnant self needs to stay healthy and grow a baby. So, Yay for green leafy veggies! Added bonus, I've never had beet greens and the large leaves that grow around a head of broccoli before, so my horizons are getting expanded in the process too.

Last night when I got home from work, JMan and SchmoopyBoy had just left to meet my mother-in-law and nephews at the local park. I made a quick stir fry from beet greens, broccoli leaves, broccoli florets, and added some non-csa white beans and tomatoes. I packed it into a container, added a container of non-csa watermelon and a box of crackers, and met them at the park for a lovely picnic.

I'm very excited about the CSA and can't wait to see what else we'll be getting in our bags! So far, I think it's pretty awesome.

Picture Thursday - I have a tail!

2011-04-21T12:03:00.000-07:00

OK, this may be the most ridiculous thing you'll see all day, but I couldn't resist sharing. He'll hate me for this when he's a teenager, I'm sure. He immediately pulled this gem out of the latest bag of hand-me-downs from my sister-in-law and hasn't gotten sick of it yet.

BTW, in case you're interested, the little cow face on the tummy of the costume - it "moo"s when you press it. For real, people.

Date night with Schmoopy

2011-04-12T20:45:00.000-07:00

On Monday nights, the JMan takes a photography class at the local community college. So I have the evening alone with SchmoopyBoy. Usually I scramble to make a quick and easy dinner and just play at home with him. Last night, the moment I came home he wanted to just sit and watch fishies on the computer. (Thanks, YouTube). Given that he skipped his afternoon nap, I was pretty sure he had plenty of screen time already during the day. So, thinking quickly, I suggested we go to see real live fishies. He found that idea agreeable so I took SchmoopyBoy out for a date night with Mommy.

Destination, PetSmart. Just a few miles away and free admission. Perfect. We started in the fish section. Rows upon rows of real live fishies. Then he spotted one of the employees working with a bin and had to find out what she was doing. In the bin were crickets. Hundreds, if not thousands of crickets. OMG! Bugs! More bugs in one place than he had ever seen before! We ventured around the store and saw some birds and mice. Then he wanted to see more bugs. So, we returned to our kindly bug lady and asked if she had any more bugs to see. Sadly, she did not. She did, however, have worms. OMG! Worms! Live worms! She took one out and placed it in her hand so SchmoopyBoy could watch its squirm around.

We walked around a little more. SchmoopyBoy enjoyed the lizards and snakes. He to to see some cats up for adoption that were sleeping in their crates. Then back around the birds and mice before returning for more worms.

Oh, how I wish I had a camera with me. I had no idea the smile a slithering worm could bring to his face.

We then thanked the kind bug lady and departed for dinner. Good heavens, where to go for dinner with no plan, little time, and a 2.75 year old who had skipped his nap. Across the parking lot was some fast food Chinese. Not great, but it would do. We loaded up our tray with noodles and veggies, and as we paid the cashier placed a couple of fortune cookies on the tray. Oh dear. Oh course SchmoopyBoy fastened his eyes on those cookies and wanted nothing else.

I must say, I've never seen him gobble up broccoli so quickly as when I told him he could have a cookie if he first ate 4 pieces of vegetable. In nothing flat, 2 pieces of broccoli and 2 slices of carrot were gone, as were a few noodles. Having his cookie craving satisfied, he then settled down to slowly consume the rest of his noodles as he watched the other people come and go.

We got home a few minutes later than I had hoped. So I just gave him a few minutes to play before heading upstairs for his bath. At bedtime, he uncharacteristically wanted to go straight to bed and turn the lights off, without any bedtime stories or lullabies. Of course, as soon as the lights were off and he was tucked in, he then asked for a story. So, I made a story up. I told him a story about a little boy that made friends with a frog at the park. It was quite a success, which amazed me since I had absolutely no idea where the story was going from start to finish. Nonetheless, he liked it so much he request it again. So, I tried to remember what I had just pulled from the air and repeated the story. After a few minutes of rolling around, he settled down to sleep.

I think he had a great time last night. Honestly, despite the creepy crawlies and greasy food, I had a great time with him too. I have to highly recommend an occasional date night with your toddler. It might surprise you.

This is the desert in April

2011-04-11T20:35:00.001-07:00

Ah, spring. The grass is finally starting to sprout and turn green. The storm clouds are forming and hail is starting to fall...

Um, wait a minute. Did you just say hail? Hail? As in ice, falling from the sky.

Yes. That would be hail. On my newly green patch of grass. In the desert southwest. In April. (Don't ask why we have a patch of grass in our yard when we live in the desert. It blows my mind too.)

Of course, it is expected to be back in the 90s before the weekend.

Wow. Some kind of weather we're having, isn't it?

I can't believe I just wrote a whole post about the weather.

But, dude, seriously, hail in April in Las Vegas. How often does that happen?

SchmoopyBoy is finally going to be a big brother!

2011-04-01T06:10:00.000-07:00

Nope, this is not an April Fools joke. I am, in fact, 14 weeks pregnant.

There have been so many times I was just about to post, and then I would chicken out. I'll just wait until my next 2 week appointment... I'll just wait until my 11 week ultrasound that tests for down syndrome... well, maybe I'll just wait one more week until I pass the 12 week mark so I don't jinx myself...

The telling is so easy. The untelling is so very hard.

So, I've put off posting about pregnancy, I've put off other posts I wanted to write because they referred to my pregnancy. Finally though, here is my official coming out party post. I'm excited. I'm hopeful. And, largely, I'm terrified. Par for the course, huh?

So what made this 3rd time the charm? Truthfully, I have no idea. Luck, perhaps? There are a few things I did differently this time around.

1. As I mentioned in a previous post several months ago, I got rolfed. My uterus and other internal organs have no structural excuses for not being able to hold a baby.

2. My doctor put me on progesterone supplements. From what the nurse told me, my progesterone numbers were "ok" but given my history of losses the doctor went ahead and prescribed the supplement to be safe.

3. Jedi mind tricks. I bet you didn't know I am a Jedi master in training. I still can't call miscellaneous objects to my hands from across the room (darn it that one's hard!) but apparently I can wave my hand over my belly and say "You shall live. You shall thrive. You shall be born healthy full term." I have yet to see if all that works. So far I'm pretty hopeful.

Positive Thoughts for the last day of March of Kindness

2011-03-31T06:30:00.000-07:00

I’ve been getting a number of Daily Kabbalah Tune-Ups that I’ve liked very much over the past week or two. So, I thought I would share five of my personal favorites. They seem particularly appropriate to include at the end of the March of Kindness.

Good for everyone – kiddos, partners, friends and family members, even yourself:

You have the power to limit people. When you think someone can't change, they won't. Be aware of your power today. Be conscious of your influence. Create an opening for someone simply by imaging it is possible for them to grow.

For yourself, here are two:

Take time every day to be still, to empty your mind, and to just be. Put away your thoughts. It’s a powerful way to develop more appreciation for your life. Go on strike from mental work today, if even just for five minutes.

Doubt is a drug dealer, standing on the corners of our mind, waiting to enslave you. Most of us are loyal customers with serious habits.
Get sober today. Chase your negative thoughts away with affirmative ones. I can…I trust…I am…. Old habits die hard, so keep repeating, or writing them.

For others, particularly in the realm of “dealing with difficult people,” here are two more:

What do you do with a difficult child? Give them more love. It’s the same with adults. Acting out is a cry for help and acceptance.
Today, assume challenging people are really asking for more care. Sacrifice your pride and give it to them.

A person who can open their heart to an enemy can save the world.
Is there someone in your life that you really can’t stand today? Please put all your effort into finding a way to treat them with human dignity. Lives are at stake.

Remembering My Father - One Year Ago Today

2011-03-28T22:18:00.000-07:00

One year ago today, my father died. It kind of hit me like a slap across the face today. For some reason, I have no idea why, I feel drawn to writing about the moment of his death. It sounds terribly morbid, I'm sure. I'm not sure if Mel from Stirrup Queen's recent post on birth and death has had me thinking back to those last 2 days, or of this is some kind of therapy that I need to get through. Nonetheless, please be forewarned that I am going to reveal details of my father's death here, so if such a topic would disturb you or cause upset, you may leave this site now.

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I remember quite clearly the phone call my mother received early in the morning from the hospital. She told me that we needed to go now, that this was it, time to say goodbye. I left SchmoopyBoy with the husband at my mother's house and accompanied her to his hospital room. I knew it was going to be bad, but I simply was not prepared for what I saw. There he laid, completely unconscious, on full life support - the very state he made us all promise he would never be in. It was too much to take, and I lost it. So much for being strong for my mother.

The unbelievable thing about it was the rapidness of his deterioration. When I had first arrived in town 2 days ago, his eyes were open. He held the pictures of him and SchmoopyBoy we had taken at our last visit. It was so like all the other times he had been in and out of the hospital. He did have a twitch in one of his arms, and it was verified that the twitch was being caused by seizures. The doctor wanted to put him on a seizure medication. I challenged it. The twitch was a bit of a annoyance, particularly when he was trying to eat, but ultimately harmless, and the doctor even admitted that it might go away on it's own - it would just take longer. I argued for a bit that he was already on so much medication, if this was unnecessary we shouldn't approve it. In other words, I was 'the difficult one' trying to stand in the way of my sick father getting some relief. I relented. Perhaps I should not have. The next day his condition was exponentially worse. He was unable to open his eyes or eat - both conscious and unconscious. The doctor said that the seizure medication was making him sleepy, that it was counter-productive for his condition to be in such a state - unable to eat, unable to cough up the fluid filling his lungs - and that he would discontinue the medication. But it was too late. The next morning we got the call.

I do not think I can fairly blame the seizure medication. I do not blame myself, the doctor, or my other family members for insisting that he get the medication. It is entirely possible that his condition would have deteriorated regardless of it. For crying out loud, he had originally gone into the hospital for a routine pace-maker installation. The vast, vast majority of patients walk out of the hospital after a day or two. Going into respiratory failure and congestive heart failure the night after the surgery put him off the bell curve altogether.

Back to the morning of March 28, 2010. I met my sister at the entrance and told her that this was it, this was goodbye. My mother sat down in a chair on the side of the room and started to cry. I sat beside her and put my arm around her. My sister stood next to my dad and held his hand. After a few moments she announced simply "He's gone". My mother and I jumped up, and sure enough, all the monitors showed flat lines. He had waited for us. He had waited until all three of us got a chance to arrive, so we could be together and say goodbye before he left us. It appeared peaceful. It appeared painless.

About a week after his death, my mother got what she believes was a sign from my father. A sign that he is ok and he wants her to be ok -that she should move on and make a happy life for herself without him. This was enormously comforting for her and she was, in fact, able to move on quite quickly. I, on the other hand, don't know that I've been able to stop grieving yet. Maybe by telling this story I can find some peace. Maybe by articulating "I should have fought harder against that fucking unnecessary seizure medication" I can alleviate some of the guilt that I was too willing to be seen as "not unreasonably difficult" and "not unreasonably obstructionist". I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit and I should have stood by my intuition, which I constantly find so difficult to trust, despite its consistent accuracy. Like I mentioned before, I can't fairly blame the medication for his death. I'm just saying that I am disappointed with myself and don't know if I will ever be able to overcome the "what-if" that plagues me if I think about it too long and too hard.

Well, there you have it. I've now spilled my guts and I don't feel any better for it. Snot from tears mixed with snot from this unrelenting bug I've had for the past week. I am, to use 2 1/2 year old lingo, a snot monster. I will say I am grateful that I was able to be there for his final days, and his final moments. I'm glad I arrived in time to see him coherent, that he was able to see pictures of his grandson that he loved so much before his descent (no toddlers were allowed in his section of the hospital, so unfortunately he couldn't see SchmoopyBoy in person). I do believe he was there, waiting for us to be together before he left that morning. It comforts me that he knew the people who loved him most were there with him, that he knew he was loved and would be missed.

Dad, if you are still watching and listening, I love you. I miss you. Goodbye.

Sick Again!?!?!

2011-03-24T14:00:00.000-07:00

When will this cold/flu season end? I am so done with being sick.

Whine...

Complain...

Moan...

Groan...

and then some.

Recent Bento Lunches

2011-03-17T20:57:00.001-07:00

It's been a while since I've posted anything food related, so here are a couple of recent bento lunches I prepared for SchmoopyBoy.

In this bento, one container has alphabet wheat pasta with a little oil, and the other contains coconut milk yogurt. SchmoopyBoy will not allow dairy yogurt within 3 feet of him. He will eat soy yogurt and coconut milk yogurt though. Go figure. I don't like to give him too much soy, and his preferred milk is soy milk, so I tend to get him the coconut milk yogurt more often. He's also got carrots and cucumber, as well as red and black grapes (although in this picture they all pretty much look the same color.

In this bento the main entree is cheese quesadilla. I typically save things that require cooking like quesadillas for Thursdays because that is my work from home day so I typically have a little more time. He's also got some sliced apple and a mandarin orange, as well as sliced carrots and cucumber.

Yes, I totally fail the cute and creative bento test. I've got a few more that attempt cuteness and themes but they are on the husband's camera and I haven't got him to load those pictures yet. Hopefully I'll be able to redeem myself soon.

A not-so-delightful happening

2011-03-11T19:51:00.000-08:00

The 3 of us spent 2 hours at the ER yesterday evening.

During the preparation of dinner, SchmoopyBoy got a bit of boiling water splattered on his jeans, which of course immediately soaked through and burned his skin. We got the jeans off and immediately applied an ice pack. SchmoopyBoy didn't care for the ice pack almost as much as he didn't care for the burn, so we took him upstairs and put him in the tub and I got some cold running water on it. Meanwhile Hubby called the pediatrician's office, who advised that we take him to the ER if blisters started to form. They formed. When we got SchmoopyBoy out of the tub he calmed down considerably and asked to go downstairs to watch television. We told him we were going to see the doctor and he was quite excited and ready to go. Screaming hysterically to happy and playful in under 2 minutes. Hmmm.

By the time we got to the hospital, you couldn't even tell that the child had been injured. He was bright eyed and curious about everything and everyone he saw. They got us checked into a room and saw that he seemed perfectly fine. So then we waited. And waited. And waited. SchmopoyBoy got restless and started running around the room and climbing on chairs. At one point he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face.

He started screaming, and when I picked him up I saw that he was already developing a huge lump smack in the middle of his forehead. We asked the nurse for an ice pack. At this point we were both getting pretty irritated and Hubby said to the nurse "Can we please get a doctor in here before he hurts himself again?!"

Within a couple of minutes the doctor came in and dressed the burn. He explained what we were to do and said he would be back with our discharge papers. Then we waited. And waited. My father in law had come by the hospital, so I took SchmoopyBoy home while Hubby and his dad waited for the papers and checked out.

SchmoopyBoy is fine. Quite a little trooper, he is. Or just a very high tolerance for pain. He hasn't complained about pain even once since we took him out of the shower before we went to the hospital. Plus he gets to wear a huge bandaid on his leg, and we all know how much this kid loves him some bandaid.

Wordless Wednesday: Red Rock

2011-03-09T06:28:00.000-08:00

Thursday Giggle

2011-03-03T12:16:00.000-08:00

I don't know where the husband found this gem, but this is my shower faucet.

They only left out one detail about water pressure. In the lower portion of the ice cold region, the water pressure is reasonable for taking a shower. As the faucet gets closer to the useful temperatures region, the pressure gets lower and lower. Once the faucet is actually within the useful temperatures region, the water pressure is merely a hefty trickle.

March of Kindness

2011-03-01T06:40:00.000-08:00

Between having a household full of sick people for over 2 weeks, and my anger and outrage at what's going on with our government, I haven't had a particularly giving and kind disposition lately. Which is why I totally love Dionna at Code Name: Mama's idea for A March of Kindness. I think it's quite inspiring and motivating to get more positive energy back into my life. The idea is simple - for each day in the month of March, perform one random act of kindness.

Check out her post here giving some background on the March of Kindness, and check out her follow up post, which provides 155 ideas for random acts of kindness to consider for the month. She lists 31 ideas for kids, 31 ideas for partners, 31 ideas for friends, 13 ideas for yourself, and 31 ideas for strangers.

What a lovely idea! Come join me in attempting 31 days of random acts of kindness. You never know, you might just help make this word a more positive place to live.

What Conservatives Really Want

2011-02-28T06:30:00.000-08:00

Why, oh why, aren't any Democrats in Washington or anywhere else for that matter listening to George Lakoff? Why aren't they re-framing the discussion the way he advocates? In this insightful article, Lakoff articulates what exactly the Conservatives are after, and what is the underlying belief system behind it.

Budget deficits are a ruse, as we've seen in Wisconsin, where the governor turned a surplus into a deficit by providing corporate tax breaks, and then used the deficit as a ploy to break the unions, not just in Wisconsin, but seeking to be the first domino in a nationwide conservative movement.

Deficits can be addressed by raising revenue, plugging tax loopholes, putting people to work, and developing the economy long-term in all the ways the president has discussed. But deficits are not what really matters to conservatives.

Conservatives really want to change the basis of American life, to make America run according to the conservative moral worldview in all areas of life....

Conservatives believe in individual responsibility alone, not social responsibility. They don't think government should help its citizens. That is, they don't think citizens should help each other. The part of government they want to cut is not the military (we have 174 bases around the world), not government subsidies to corporations, not the aspect of government that fits their worldview. They want to cut the part that helps people. Why? Because that violates individual responsibility. (emphasis mine)

To read more and get the critical details, read the complete article. It isn't too long, but vitally important for this country.

Covering Up is a Feminist Issue

2011-02-27T14:05:00.000-08:00

Hello World! I’m alive and, thankfully, well again. I wanted to start the week by sharing this fabulous video created by Annie of PhD in Parenting. It touches two issues near and dear to my heart – feminism and parenting – in particular, breastfeeding.

I breastfed exclusively for the first year of SchmoopyBoy’s life. (Well, I introduced solids around 6 months, but breastmilk was still his primary source of nutrition.) During that first year, I did venture out in public and I did not hesitate to nurse him wherever I happened to be. I almost always used a cover when I nursed in public. There were a few instances that I let slide if I was wearing a nursing top and knew I wasn’t going to be flashing everyone, but really I was more comfortable keeping myself covered.

No one ever confronted me anywhere I went. Not a single person in any restaurant ever asked me to leave and feed my child somewhere else. Would that have been the case if I were not to have used a cover? I have no idea. It’s not like no one could tell what I was doing, either. When a woman is making googly eyes down towards her shirt, and a tiny hand is reaching up touching her face, it’s pretty obvious what’s going on.

What is my point? My point is that covering up was MY choice. It was about MY comfort level. If a woman is comfortable nursing in public without a cover, more power to her. It is not for me to judge another woman’s comfort with her body. It is not for anyone to judge a woman’s comfort with her body. The choice is with the individual woman, which is why covering up is a feminist issue.

The Sick House

2011-02-22T10:07:00.001-08:00

Isn't it amazing how small children are notoriously bad at sharing toys and food, but are notoriously good at sharing germs? While SchmoopyBoy is finally on the mend, both his father and myself are now sick. Total water works of the face. Truly a joy. So I'm taking a sick day or 2 (like this will really interrupt my oh so irregular posting schedule) but will hopefully have something coherent to write about soon.

Lion Dance = Greatest Thing Ever

2011-02-15T21:08:00.001-08:00

This past weekend I took SchmoopyBoy to the Chinese New Year Festival at our local Chinatown Plaza. I wasn't sure if we would be able to make it, as he had been sick for a couple of days and I wasn't sure if he would be up for it. Of course, all I had to do was mention that there would be dragons and drums and he was ready to go!

We got in the gate just in time for the lion dancing to start. SchmoopyBoy was enraptured. I knew I would be hearing about "dragons" (I suppose they do look more like dragons than lions, especially to a 2 year old) for a while, I had no idea the extent to which he is totally obsessed. He wants to see pictures of lion dancing, he wants to see videos of lion dancing, he wants to see Real! Live! Lion! Dancing! all day every day.

His cold took a turn for the worse today. His temperature got up to 104 a couple of times during the day so I left work early to meet the husband and kiddo at the doctor's office. He thoroughly enjoyed all the gadgets the doctor broke out. He was an awesome little patient, if I do say so myself. And on the way home, he made it abundantly clear that he wanted....

MORE LION DANCING!

I did not take this picture. I was kicking myself for leaving my camera at home. This is a picture from the Lohan School of Shaolin, which performed the lion dances as well as some Kung Fu demonstrations.

The Julie Project - musings on infertility, humanity, love and perfection

2011-02-10T16:08:00.000-08:00

I discovered the Julie Project early this week from Blue Milk, and it's been haunting me ever since, so I thought I should take some time to put some of my thoughts onto paper, if nothing else then to at least help purge my mind from all the levels of disturbing that have been tossing around.

The Julie Project is a documentary photo essay created by Darcy Padilla, winner of the W. Eugene Smith Grant for Humanistic Photography, which tracks the life of Julie Baird over almost two decades. It is the story of brutal, inescapable poverty, surviving childhood sexual abuse, drug addiction, AIDS, motherhood, and loss. Blue Milk's description of the series as "utterly compelling but completely devastating" is right on target.

There have been a couple of persistent themes running my head. On one hand, I was interested in perspectives of the story through the eyes of women in the ALi (adoption, loss, infertility) community, and how socio-economic privilege might frame one's perceptive of the story. I was also interested in examining what this story can teach us about humanity, perfection (or lack thereof), and love.

First I want to think about some (but certainly not all) perspectives that might be considered in the context of the ALi community. The pain of a woman struggling with infertility can be overwhelming. The anguish can lead to some women questioning the universe. I once read on a woman's blog - such and such woman doesn't even intend to try breastfeeding and is already talking about the daycare she is going to put her child in, why is she pregnant and I am not (implying that she clearly thinks she would be a superior - breastfeeding, stay-at-home - mother and is therefore more deserving of getting pregnant). I have read numerous accounts of people crying about the unfairness that women who lack one (perceivably desirable) quality or possess another (perceivably undesirable) quality have children so easily, when they, who do not possess said undesirable quality or do possess said desirable quality cannot easily bear a biological child. What, I wonder, would these women say about a sometimes homeless drug addict birthing six children, five of which were taken by the state and given for adoption.

But it is so easy to reduce someone to "a sometimes homeless drug addict". By reducing Julie as such, she is dehumanized, and if the Julie Project does nothing else, it forces us to see her humanity. And let us discuss for a moment, this concept of fairness. Is it fair that Julie was born to an alcoholic mother? Is it fair that she was raped repeatedly as a child by her stepfather? Is it fair that by the age of 14, a life as a runaway on the streets was preferable to life at home? When one has the privilege of being what society generally considers to be the "right" kind of woman to be a mother, it is so easy to point fingers at the "wrong" type of woman. These types of judgements are by no means limited to women struggling with fertility. Certainly these types of judgements are used constantly by policy makers, with the implicit approval of their constituencies, to justify such actions as the elimination of a variety of social programs that target marginalized groups for being the "wrong" type of woman.

Back to an ALi perspective, I now want to consider those who have been on the opposite end of the same line as Julie. I am speaking of those who have become mothers via adoption through a foster-to-adopt program. Many of these women are all too aware that they have gained their parenthood only though someone else's loss. Their children may or may not still bear the physical or emotional scars of the circumstances of their births.

It is interesting to consider Julie's children and their adoptive parents. The mother of Julie's fifth child, Jason Jr./Zach, contacted Julie and openly and explicitly tried to include her in her son's life. This child had been taken away from Julie at birth - she had never seen him. Nonetheless, Zach's mother taught him that his birth mother was special. Julie had given him life and for that he should feel love and gratitude towards her, despite her inability to care for him.

I found it fascinating that, upon receiving the initial letter of contact, Julie's response was "I didn't expect this, I expected it was Rachael," Julie's firstborn, who had been with her the longest of any of her children. Rachael had spent the first several years of her life with her birth mother in excruciating poverty, moving from home to flea-infested home, surrounded by drug abuse. She was present, although sleeping, when her 15 month old brother was beaten so badly by Julie's current partner (Julie was at the hospital at the time) both children were taken by the police, placed into foster care and later adopted. Julie thought Rachael would want to contact her. I wonder if Rachael would have any interest. What might Rachael feel towards Julie? Resentment and hatred? Love and longing? Who knows if she would ever want to revisit her difficult beginnings? Would she ever want to look backwards to where she came from, or would she be happy to leave any dark memories of deprivation and loss behind and look only to the future, more bright than any Julie could provide?

This thought, in my mind, brings me back in full circle to Julie's essential humanity. I am reminded of a particularly powerful sermon I once heard. The theme - perfection and love. You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to be perfect in order to love others. You don't have to be perfect in order to be loved by others. I think of the people who loved Julie. The biological father in Alaska - who never forgot her - who tattooed her name on his arm when Julie's 17-year old mother took her and ran off to San Francisco - who spent the next 31 years searching for her. Jack, the man who gave her AIDS and fathered her first child - who gladly took her back after she first left him when their child was a few months old to get away from his drug use - who embraced her second child as he did his own biological child - who, after she left him again for the man who beat her child and caused both children to be taken into custody, when dying of AIDS in a public hospice, had a last wish only that Julie, the love of his life, be by his side. Jason, the father of her last four children - who stood by her side when three of those children were taken away at birth - who stood by her side all the way up to Alaska so that Julie could be reunited with her father - who nursed her day and night when she lay dying of AIDS. Julie may not have been perfect. But she was undeniably human. And you don't need to be perfect to be loved.

One last thing I want to talk about is Julie's motherhood - the transformative potential motherhood had on her. When Darcy first met and started photographing Julie, she and Jack both said "Rachael has given us a reason to live". In fact, this is why Julie first left Jack within a year of Rachael's birth. He was abusive and did not want to stop using drugs. She was trying to stay clean because she did not want to lose this baby. The story starts with hope and optimism. Would this 19 year old young woman be able to transform her life? Could she overcome her own past, filled with addiction and abuse in her own upbringing to become the mother she wanted to be? Could she escape her own drug abuse, homelessness, and poverty? On her own with no education, no family, no resources, neither boots nor bootstraps, the poverty proved to be unrelenting and inescapable.

This is one of the tragedies of Julie's story, and a tragedy of our society.

Darcy Padilla said, when asked why she took on this project:

"I guess what motivated me was this question that I kept thinking about all those years: How does a child born into this world like every other child, get to be Julie Baird?... Julie was witty and smart, and she might have grown up to be a teacher. But her mother was an alcoholic and her stepfather abused her, and she ended up on the streets at age 14."

So when I hear about how House Republicans are trying to cut down on violence prevention by defunding programs such as the Violence Against Women Health Initiative (which funds ongoing work to improve health care providers' response to domestic and sexual violence), the Family Violence Prevention and Services Act (which funds domestic violence shelters and the National Hotline), and the Engaging Men and Youth in Prevention Program (which works to tap into the critical role men can play in helping youth develop respectful attitudes and behaviors towards women and girls), I have to agree with Blue Milk's final statement that every policy maker should view the Julie Project.

Quick Update - The Sleepy Edition

2011-02-07T21:44:00.000-08:00

By now some folks may have noticed that I haven’t been posting much lately. I don’t have a ton of fabulous excuses. I haven’t been gallivanting abroad in any exotic locations. I’ve just been very, very tired lately. The kind of tired where my head goes into a fog a couple times a day and I cannot do anything but close my eyes for even a few short minutes. The kind of tired that makes me pass out at the same time as my 2 year old most nights, leaving chores undone, dishes unwashed, diapers unassembled.

Oddly enough, I haven’t been sleeping well at night either. I’ve been having particularly bad episodes of insomnia in the middle of the night or early morning. I might be so tired that it hurts to even open my eyes, yet my brain just won’t shut up and I toss and turn until I get hungry. So I go downstairs to grab a bite, then lie back down and toss and turn until I get heartburn….blah blah blah and so it goes for about 2-3 hours. I suppose I could better spend at least one of those hours finishing my chores left undone when I passed out, but I keep wishfully thinking that if I stay lying down then perhaps I’ll fall asleep faster. Plus there’s that so-tired-my-eyes-hurt thing going on, so I really just want to keep them closed, which then makes scrubbing pots kind of difficult.

Yes, I am aware my poor sleep likely has something to do with my extreme fatigue.

I actually do have another reason for being so tired, but I’m not quite ready to talk about it. Don’t worry, it’s nothing overly dramatic. Give me another week or so and I’ll post an update.

On the fun side, that SchmoopyBoy is really becoming quite a character. It’s great fun (most of the time) to see his personality take off as he develops better communication skills. I could spend a couple of posts talking about that in and of itself. Perhaps if I find the time and energy I will one of these days.

On that note, I'm going to bed now. zzzzzzz....

Wordless Wednesday: Quintessential SchmoopyBoy

2011-02-02T06:32:00.000-08:00

His future's so bright, he's got to wear shades...

and mom's shoes... and a couple of puppets...

The many faces of Schmoopy

2011-01-28T06:20:00.000-08:00

What a ham! He requested that I get the camera out and take pictures while we were eating.

A scrunchie-nose only a mama could kiss.

This is what I get when I ask him for a "happy face". Kind of scary.

"Hey Baby, you know it's hard to look this cool while eating carrots."

This is his rendition of "confused face", otherwise known as "Hmmmm..."

Showing me five

A tale of mac n' cheese

2011-01-26T21:12:00.000-08:00

When I was growing up, I had no idea that macaroni and cheese could be made any other way than out of a box. No idea. And I was quite fond of my boxed mac n’ cheese. When I moved away from home I ate it for dinner at least twice a week. I’m not kidding. Sometimes I varied things up a bit and added some spaghetti sauce or a can of tuna fish (this in my non-vegetarian days). Sure it was economical, especially in my low-budget college days, but I actually was quite happy to continue to get my multiple times a week processed powdered macaroni fix even after I got my corporate finance job and enough money to easily afford more expensive fare.

Then I took up house with this vegan guy. Making two dinners at night was not anything I was interested in pursuing long term, so I sacrificed my boxed mac n’ cheese and started looking for an alternative we both could eat. I tried boxed vegan mac n’ “cheese”. Dreadful stuff. Not worth buying IMHO.

I can’t tell you how excited I was to discover the best vegan made-from-scratch macaroni and cashew "cheese” recipe ever. Serously. Best Ever. Obviously it doesn’t have any cheese in it. It is fabulously delicious, however, better than most macaroni and dairy cheeses I have eaten. Creamy, hearty, and I altered the recipe just enough so it meets my “30-minutes or less for dinner, start to finish” rule. I have been meaning to share the recipe, and I promise I’ll eventually get around to it.

Anyway, so about a week or so ago I was grocery shopping and decided, what the heck, I’ll buy a box of powdered processed macaroni and cheese. There are plenty of times I’m at home with SchmoopyBoy alone and could use a fast and convenient meal option.

This last Monday, I had my opportunity to try it out. The new semester began on Monday and the husband started his new photography class. I was admittedly feeling a bit lazy so a made the box of mac and cheese and a salad.

Wow, have my tastes changed. I am so spoiled by good, high quality whole foods. It was virtually inedible. Truly, absolutely awful. But being hungry, lazy, and hating to waste “food”, I forced myself to eat it. The only way I could stand it was to chop up a bunch of cherry tomatoes and include a piece of tomato in every bite.

SchmoopyBoy took one bite, made a face, declared it “yucky” and would not touch it again. He ate apples and sunflower seeds for dinner, and nibbled a bit on some bell peppers in the salad.

Maybe I shouldn’t share my fabulously delicious macaroni and cashew “cheese” recipe. It might spoil you too, rendering you unable to consume the convenient, cheap, and easy boxed mac n cheese of my youth. Wouldn’t that be a travesty?

Coded Misogyny and Institutional Prejudice

2011-01-20T14:19:00.000-08:00

I highly recommend you get your Feminism 101 on and check out the excellently written definition and explanation of coded misogyny and institutional prejudice by Melissa over at Shakesville. It is long and academic in style, which I know some of my readers can't stand (ehem, you you know who you are) but really important information. Stuff of the eye-openning, thought-challenging nature.

Go there now! I order you! Like the super masculine authoritarian that I am! (If you don't know what the heck I'm talking about, all the more reason to go read this.)

Bad Poetry Friday - A Haiku (or 7) about Sleep

2011-01-14T06:45:00.000-08:00

SchmoopyBoy and Sleep:

Why do you fight sleep?
Don't you know how great sleep is?
You'll miss it one day.

When you skip your nap
Your behavior becomes…. hmmm...
and we all are sad.

SchmoopyBoy at rest
My sweet angel, so serene
wakes up cranky. Why?

Dozing in my arms,
Baby and I are like one.
My heart is so full.

Me and Sleep:

Oh, Insomnia!
Why are you trying so hard
to make my nights suck?

Ah! How I love Sleep,
so dreamy yet elusive.
One day, you’ll be mine.

Coffee – so yummy!
Although you’re second to Sleep,
I’ll get through the day.

Wordless Wednesday: "Cat" by SchmoopyBoy, age 2

2011-01-12T20:50:00.000-08:00

Badassery in 2011

2011-01-07T16:58:00.000-08:00

Once again, I am referring to you to the fabulous and inspiring Karen of Chookooloonks for her post on 2011 as the year of badassery. I love love love her definition of badass. You must check it out.

Here’s to practicing badassery in 2011 and always!

The Great Blizzard of January 2011

2011-01-04T12:20:00.000-08:00

OK, maybe not such a great blizzard. Certainly my East Coast friends will be mocking these paltry centimeters of snow. But, hey! Snow in Vegas! How often does that happen?!

Here's my back yard with a blanket of snow.

Look what I came home to! A cute little snow person and a cute little person!

I am a mother

2010-12-30T16:41:00.000-08:00

Why do we not say, simply, I am a mother? Why do we not say: I am a feminist mother whose greatest contribution to making the world a better place is raising children with open searching loving hearts, children who might be world leaders or who might not be world leaders but who will, I hope, be caring human beings who will demand that the world be a better place? Why do we not say, I am a mother, and the work that I do as a mother – the care I give, the love that I offer – extends far beyond hearth and home, far beyond my own children, and causes ripples and waves that will shift sand on shores that I cannot see ... Why do we not say, I am a mother, full stop? Why do I not say that? ~ Catherine, of Her Bad Mother

Catherine at Her Bad Mother wrote this fantastically inspiring essay on motherhood, parenthood, womanliness, manliness, feminism, and changing the world. It is a long essay, but thoroughly worth reading in its entirety. So obvious, and yet so radical an idea - Changing the world begins in the home, by raising our sons and daughters to have empathy and be good people. This is work that is done in the private sphere, within the home. This has traditionally been the work of mothers, although it has taken increasing priority with fathers (such as in our household, where my husband is the primary stay-at-home parent). Catherine's point is that we should celebrate the work of raising children itself, and that work's place in women's history. We celebrate fatherhood, particularly when men embrace fatherhood the way my husband has and embraces the work that has traditionally been done by women. We do not so much celebrate motherhood - "just" motherhood for its importance and value and potential for contribution to the world. Motherhood and the work of women in general tends to be devalued, and she proposes we mothers initiate a change in that thinking by making a simple, yet radical statement. I am a mother, full stop.

Catherine asserts:

Not all mothers are heroines, not all mothers are feminists, not all mothers raise good citizens, not all mothers have the best intentions, even mothers with the best intentions do not always see those intentions fulfilled in the ways that they expect, or at all. None of that matters. What matters is this: ordinary motherhood, undertaken in ordinary ways, can be as extraordinary, can have as extraordinary an impact, as any work undertaken in the public sphere.

Along with Catherine, and for myself, for my child, for the world in which I would like to envision my child living, for women and mothers everywhere, I declare: I am a mother, and my motherhood is important, my motherhood can be radical, my motherhood is a feminist act.

Shirt pockets are so handy...

2010-12-29T07:09:00.000-08:00

...for storing discarded pea pods after the peas are removed and eaten.

Photos brought to you by my awful phone camera and poor lighting.

Caught in the act

He is unimpressed by my mad photo-taking skills.

I am that old lady

2010-12-28T16:40:00.000-08:00

During the afternoon on Christmas eve I stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things. As I was in the check out, getting my items scanned and bagged, I couldn’t help overhear the young people bagging the groceries chatting amicably. They were talking about music. The guy said something about loving “that Taylor Swift song” and then started singing “Last Christmas”.

You know, the song “Last Christmas” by Wham! that was uber-popular back in the early-mid 1980s?

Now, no one can accuse me of ever having been a Wham! fan in my youth, and no one can accuse me of ever having actually liked the song "Last Christmas". Nonetheless, I was so beside myself I could hardly control my mouth when I started exclaiming “OMG! That is NOT a new song by Taylor Swift!”

The kid sheepishly admitted that he knew it wasn’t a NEW song by Taylor Swift - that he had heard that guy’s version before, he just likes Taylor Swift’s version.

Umm, yeah, George Michaels is now officially that guy. Wow. Multiple number one singles, tens of millions of albums sold and he is now that guy.

Then the kids started babbling about something else.

I planted my forehead into my palms and shook my head. I didn’t try to follow their conversation after that. I do believe this officially makes me “that old lady who remembers when that song was popular back before you kids or Taylor Swift were even born!” So I just shut my mouth to fester old lady-style in 1980s music nostalgia.

House GOP Supports Child Abuse World-wide

2010-12-24T07:36:00.000-08:00

I think I tasted vomit in the back of my throat when I read this story earlier this week. Which, combined with my lingering sore throat and cough from two weeks of flu, made me a little bit grumpy.

Here’s the story in a nutshell. On December 1, a bill passed the Senate with zero objections. Bipartisan support for a no-brainer bill that “directs the president to make preventing child marriage a priority, especially in countries where more than 40 percent of girls under the age of 18 are married. The ways to do that, according to the bill: support educating communities on the dangers and health effects of child marriage, keep young girls in school, support female mentoring programs and make sure girls have access to health care services.” Just before the vote in the House, Republican leadership sent out a “whip alert” telling House Republicans to vote no because the health care services provision might lead to funding NGOs that provide abortion services. So, the bill was killed. Even some congressmen who sponsored the bill voted no.

It truly makes my head want to explode. Are GOP lawmakers in a contest to see which house of Congress has the biggest douchebags? Hmm, last week Republican Senators filibustered a bill that would provide compensation for first responders to 9/11. Wow, that’s amazingly douchebaggy, how can we beat that? I know! Let’s kill a bill that promotes basic human rights and opposes legalized child rape! You just can’t beat that level of douchbaggery!

How is it that every Senate Republican supported the bill? Have pro-life Republican lawmakers abandoned their base constituency? NO! Want to know the reason why? This bill has absolutely nothing to do with abortion and does not even mention abortion, contraception, or family planning in any way whatsoever.

Consider the following. A commenter said it so succinctly, I cannot improve upon it, so I’ll just quote here:

The part that gets me is this: "Even some congressmen who sponsored the bill voted no." They voted no. Which means that legislation they found worthy enough to put their name on didn't get their vote because a party member with higher rank told them to vote no. If this isn't partisan politics at its worst, then what is? Forget the horrendous subject matter of the bill (tough to do, I know, when they basically voted to keep little girls up front in the meat market), consider this: if we are electing individuals whose votes are determined not by our wishes but by the direction of their party leaders, then whose side are our representatives on?

Also consider this, the United States is a member of the United Nations, which has taken the position that child marriage is a violation of human rights. As a member nation of the United Nations, we are obligated to support human rights.

Yes, even human rights of children.

Yes, even human rights of girl children.

Yes, even human rights of girl children in developing countries.

The United Nations Report on Child Marriage states that child marriage:

represents perhaps the most prevalent form of sexual abuse and exploitation of girls. The harmful consequences include separation from family and friends, lack of freedom to interact with peers and participate in community activities, and decreased opportunities for education. Child marriage can also result in bonded labor or enslavement, commercial sexual exploitation and violence against the victims. Because they cannot abstain from sex or insist on condom use, child brides are often exposed to such serious health risks as premature pregnancy, sexually transmitted infections and, increasingly, HIV/AIDS.

And just in case you are wondering what’s the harm in adolescent pregnancy, adolescent girls (defined as ages 10-19) are two to five times more likely to die during pregnancy or childbirth as women in their twenties (source). In other words, it’s a major health risk that perhaps might be mitigated somewhat by proper prenatal healthcare that could have been funded by the bill House Republicans killed for no valid reason.

You can see the list of Representatives that voted against the bill at this link. If your Representative voted No, I encourage you to write a letter or email, or make a phone call to let him/her know how disgusted you are.

Two Year Olds Are Perfect

2010-12-23T12:26:00.000-08:00

Perfectly small and kissable. Perfectly adorable and affectionate.

And perfectly maddening, perfectly capable of driving you from perfectly content to perfectly furious in less than 10 seconds.

Don't let the angel eyes fool you. This spunky little character has mischief in mind.

Oh, the irony

2010-12-16T12:25:00.000-08:00

How is it that the one person in my office that has had 2 miscarriages this year ended up being the person to plan a baby shower for another woman in the office?

You see, it goes like this. The department Chief is sitting next to me at a meeting. The meeting is pretty much over but people are lingering and chit chatting. He turns directly to me and says "So is anything being planned for A? When is the baby shower going to be?" or something very similar to the effect, when in fact he actually means "I think you should organize a baby shower for A."

Before anyone goes off on "the audacity!" of the division chief, let me just say up front that this was not a completely unreasonable request.

First, and probably most relevantly, I am the last person in the office that birthed a baby and received an office baby shower. It seems appropriate that the last person to receive a shower should be the one organizing the next one. Based on a comment from another co-worker in the office, this may be a tradition in the office that I had not been aware of due to my relatively short tenure here, and the low number of baby-producing people in the office (most people in the office either have older children, or are single and not presently looking to have children).

Secondly, it's not like I advertise the fact that I'm experiencing struggles with fertility. Until very recently, there were only two people that even knew about my miscarriages. One of them was my boss, who I needed to tell because of the time I needed to take off from work to get all those darn blood tests. The other was a woman in another group with whom I had bonded over our mutually crunchy birthing and parenting styles. So, my division chief was not intentionally trying to be insensitive.

Still...Ouch. Yes, of course I'm happy to help... but Ouch.

I have to confess, I very well may have volunteered to help out with the planning even if I hadn't been asked. Because, you see, this woman and I have something shared - the common thread of infertility has touched us both. When I announced my pregnancy with SchmoopyBoy, she had been trying to conceive for 6 months. Now, three years later, after a costly failed IVF attempt and an attempt to adopt through the local foster-to-adopt program (the child she housed and fell in love with was ultimately placed with his biological father), now she is birthing a child of her own. I am truly so happy for her.

Throughout her pregnancy she has been positively beaming with happiness. I will admit it was hard to be around during the worst of my most recent loss. Trigger after trigger would leave me staring blankly behind my desk, struggling to function. But then I think to myself, how many times must I have unwittingly triggered her? When I was waddling around the office as big as a house, was I merely a reminder to her of what seemed out of reach? I wonder now how many times I carelessly and insensitively talked about my young child in her presence, perhaps complaining about lack of sleep, all without a second thought as to how she might have been triggered into sadness or envy or hopelessness or frustration.

Oh, the irony now that the tables are turned.

She never expressed a single negative thought towards me. She attended my office baby shower. She smiled at my stories. She absolutely deserves no less from me. This office baby shower is not about me or my struggles. It is about her achieving parenthood after a long and challenging journey. It is about celebrating her new daughter and her role as birthing mother.

I am not being facetious when I say that I am truly happy for her, and that I was glad to help with her shower. All I'm saying is...

Oh, the irony.