Who's your Man Meme

Thanks for the tag Karen

1. Who is your man?
Big Daddy J

2. How long have you been together?
8 Years

3. How long did you date?
A few weeks (yikes!! so far, that has worked out pretty well for us!) We laid eyes on one another for the first time in August or September of 1999. We started mountain biking and rock climbing together in October. We then went out on our first 'date' in October. We were talking about marriage and were ring shopping in November. And in early December, we got engaged.

4. How old is your man?
34

5. Who eats more?
um....probably me. I have a rather high metabolism and eat all the time.

6. Who said "I love you" first?
It was all such a whirlwind...I think we arrived at saying I love you at the same time. I'm not sure who said it first.

7. Who is taller?
He is the tall one by about 5 inches at 5'6"

8. Who sings better?
I am going to say me. Although I love it when he is putting it all his effort into singing.

9. Who is smarter?
I think we are smart in entirely different ways. He is really pragmatic and mathematically inclined. He takes things apart and fixes them. It would have never occurred to me to ever take anything apart....ever. I love to read and write. I am intuitive and love the complexities of the very grey world we live in. Big Daddy J's world is black and white, filled with rights and wrongs. In fact, he tends to see issues in rights and wrongs while I am always 'bending the rules' so to speak. It drives us nuts about each other....although I think we value the big difference there.

10. Whose temper is worse?
That depends. I run hot. I raise my voice and make passionate arguments. I tend to 'bark' at the kids. But then that's it; it's over. In fact I have a gift at letting it go and not even remembering what I was mad about. Big Daddy J tends to simmer and hold grudges. We both think the other has a worse temper.

11. Who does the laundry?
We both do

12. Who takes out the garbage?
We both do, but he usually rolls the big can out on Trash day.

13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed?
That would be me.

14. Who pays the bills?
For now he does, but I may be taking over that endeavor.

15. Who is better with the computer?
Him

16. Who mows the lawn?
Neither of us....Someone else does it.

17. Who cooks dinner?
We both really like to cook. I mainly cook dinner during the week, but sometimes he does. On the weekend it is pretty split.

18. Who drives when you are together?
Pretty much him.

19. Who pays when you go out?
Who ever has access to a wallet and who isn't chasing down the kids.

20. Who is most stubborn?
That would be him. He comes from a long line of impressively stubborn people.

21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong?
That would be me, given number 20.


22. Whose parents do you see the most?
Mine

23. Who kissed who first
He asked my permission to kiss me. It melted my heart. Very very sweet.

24. Who asked who out?
He asked me out. I had just given up dating for a while when he inconveniently showed up on the scene to delightfully throw off my big plan.

25. Who proposed?
Well, the whole relationship moved super fast. I was sort of freaked out by it all and nearly dumped him in a parking lot because I just couldn't take the intensity of the whole thing. I was really afraid that this would go on for a few years and then he would get some job offer across country and be all 'its been real sweetie, but I don't want a long distance thing' (something I had already experienced twice). In exasperation he lightly banged his head against the steering wheel of his old car and said 'but Sarah, I want to marry you!'.

While this wasn't the actual proposal, it was the turning point in our few week old courtship. The words had been spoken, it was just the details that needed working out. We shopped for a ring together (I totally should have just let him do it, I would have gotten a way bigger rock). It wasn't exactly a surprise when he did the formal proposal, but I was delighted.

26. Who is more sensitive?
I think we are both quite sensitive, although I may be a bit more so.

27. Who has more friends?
I do.

28. Who has more siblings?
He does. I have one brother, he has two sisters.

29. Who wears the pants in the family?
I think our relationship is pretty equal. I'm no shrinking violet.

What a month!

I feel like I have abandoned my poor fledgling blog. Thank you Julie for your comments and reminding me that I do, in fact, have a blog. (and apparently, a person or two who actually read it!)



For the last several months I keep saying how we are in the midst of so many changes. We really still are. It feels as though it has been a year of change. But I think I may just live like this all the time. Either way September was NUTS!



My husband has started a new job that entails some international travel. September brought Big Daddy to India. He was gone a full week which was the longest he has ever been away from me and the kids. It did result in some very cool presents.

In the middle of that I attended two births. I had taken these clients before Big Daddy had the new job. It would not have been my first choice to balance my husband's absence with being on call for two separate clients. But it all worked out. Somehow, the crazy details of my doula life fall into place at just the right time so that I can be physically and mentally able to serve birthing women.

Diva Child started preschool and has been doing very well. Minus the intentional peeing for mommy...you know going on the potty perfectly, as if she has been doing it her whole life, while at school and then actually saving some pee to go right outside the car door at pick up. Her ability to only wet her clothes and then finish on the potty is somewhat commendable. Thankfully, almost a month and a half later she seems to be tiring of this game.

The end of September brought a week of all things BIRTH. There was a lovely Red Tent Event that had women sharing personal birth stories. There was the folding of programs. Late nights talking about transparency in maternity care. How can we help women have the type of birth they want? The actual performances of the play were moving and beautiful.

Leading up to the play also brought together myself and 3 other amazing doulas to start a doula collective of sorts. We are 4 independent doulas who back one another up and support one another in our field. We are busy trying to make better connections with area hospitals, care providers, women's groups, and doulas. We all believe that women's birth experiences matter and that women should be supported in labor and birth if that is her desire.

With my new massage room I have been really working from home. It is a delight. I love it so very much. My clients from my old work space have made their way back and it is all working out.

So with all the newness...all the change, I am freaking out a little. I am quite happy but my body is very stressed out. I am a bit overwhelmed with the small things that add up to the whole. My work nuisances. As we all know, no job is perfect in every sense. There are always the dishes to do after the joy of creating the meal. It is the dishes type details that I am mired in. In my three roles: Mama, doula, massage therapist, I have been avoiding the 'dishes'.

You know what a house looks like when the dishes have sat in the sink for a week? It's not.good. My brain is filled with the clutter of things to do/things left undone. My home has weird back ups of laundry and sorting. I have just scads of paperwork calling to me for massage and doula business stuff.

So that, dear blog, is why I have put you aside. It is a self grounding for avoiding all that other stuff. However, I think maybe my mama self needs to ground mama sarita from on line asteroids.

"Jesus Died"

Last night as I was tucking Diva child into bed she informed me that Jesus died. I have to admit I was really taken aback and then was really mad. She just started Sunday school 2 short weeks ago. I have had a lot of trepidation about that; to be honest, much more so than with the start of preschool. I asked her who had told her this and she said 'someone from church'. To me, it was rather important that this came up 1) at bed time three days (or more) after this had come up and 2) she was confused by it all.

Before anyone freaks out and thinks I am not a 'real Christian' (whatever that means...) I do, in fact, realize that the death and resurrection of Jesus is the whole point of Christianity. But my Diva Child is THREE. She is little and doesn't get death. I'm not sure when anyone 'gets' death as it is the most unnatural thing that most of us spend our entire lives trying to avoid.

I'm also feeling rather sensitive about this as we have just had to say goodbye to the dog. When I asked her what it meant that Jesus died she said, ummm well....his body stopped working?

I guess this is the central theme of my rant. Jesus did die, but he rose from the dead. A supernatural event that is part of the faith of Christianity and the 'good news' of it all (if you will indulge me with some 1970's Jesuspeak).

When I think about talking about God and Jesus to a bunch of three year olds, I think of all kinds of biblical truths that they can get. God created us. God created the world...nature, animals, mountains, water, the planets.... God is good....loves us and wants relationship with us. Jesus is God's son. He loves Children. God loves us so much that he still loves us when we don't do the right thing. God forgives us anytime we say I'm sorry...

I could go on and on and on and on and on. But Jesus died? Well of course he did. Easter would be a great time to dive into that topic with almost 4 year olds.

So, what do you think? I'm seriously pissed that my child left church with the message 'Jesus is dead'. My issue? How would you feel? I'm really not into pumping my kids full of 'the story' just to know it. I would like them to experience God and learn things that would be relevant to their three year old selves. Just because I haven't told Diva Child that Jesus died, doesn't change a thing about that. Clearly we would go there at some point....I wouldn't have picked 4 days after the dog died, but that's just me.

Knowing God is a beautiful thing. I emphatically disagree that people have to be intouch with the most gruesome elements of the death of Jesus to experience Gods love, forgiveness, transformation. I think there are seasons for that type of understanding of God, but isn't there a lifetime of learning about God ahead of little children? I don't think we have to go to the most painful parts to experience freedom. Just like I don't have to read the news everyday to have gratitude for how cushy my life really is.

But then again, I don't make my little child know about the ugliness of the world to experience happiness either.

I would love to know how other Christians have navigated this issue.

Goodbye's are never easy

Today my old old old childhood dog as peacefully slipped away after 16 great doggy years. I am nothing, if not deeply practical, about the place of animals and pets in the grand scheme of this world. My old sweet Bandit has had more medical care than is maybe sane in an eternal sense. He did have his ACL reattached....He did have intervention over a decade ago when he was hit by a car. When a dog has arrived at year 16 of his doggy life (95 years if you do the voo-doo math of a vet) it is time to enjoy the spoils of a doggy life well lived and not look into the many ailments that are bothersome in doggy old age.

After a nice walk yesterday with my dad, the dog started having some issues with a growth on his body. It didn't seem to bother him but also would not stop bleeding. Long story short, the dog had an aggressive cancer that was going to claim his life and make him really uncomfortable in the following days and weeks.

My parents did the most merciful thing by euthanizing him this morning. He had one last long walk, some really good people food, and had his favorite owners by his side as he drifted off at last.

In the last 2 years, we have said goodbye to both of my grandmothers, our very old cat, and now Bandit. My diva child loved that dog. She called him 'my dog'. While I am a bit choked up about the dog, it was very difficult to tell my little girl that Bandit's body stopped working. It sucks to put an animal down even when you know it is the right thing to do. But it truly grieved my heart to see my little girl feel the sting of death herself. The child sobbed and sobbed and sobbed in my arms. And really, fair enough! It is sad!

I wish there were something 'true' I could tell her about death. But ultimately, we don't know exactly what happens. And any spiritual platitudes I could extend seem less relevant and hollow when it comes to an animal...and ridiculous to tell to a smart 3 year old. So we did pray. We thanked God for Bandit and his long & happy doggy life. We thanked God for the joy he brought us and the love we had for him. We also asked God to care for Bandit and to give him lots of good people food in doggy heaven.

I wish that the sweet blissful ignorance of babyhood could just stick around my house a little bit longer. This is it people....this is exactly the crap I was sad about when I posted about preschool starting. It is this awareness of life...the growing up and learning about the world. So much beauty and so much pain to learn about and experience. Yet we all do, and we are all pretty much fine. I will be sure to update when I have found a non freaky way to save my child from ever experiencing loss or pain and yet somehow have them not turn out to be narcissistic.

Big Girl School is Around the Corner

This Summer has been a lot of things. Busy, fun, long, short, quiet, crazy and very special. I have had the sense, all summer long, that this was basically the last Summer of Diva Child's babyhood. She hasn't seemed like a 'baby' for a while now, but still she is my first baby.



In a week, Diva child will put on a special dress and new shoes and the two of us will trot off to her first day of nursery school. While I am delighted that she is going and I know she is ready I would be lying if I said this new thing isn't causing some trepidation in my heart.



As I have examined my conflicted feelings on this I have realized that we have been living in a very small, safe, innocent, and happy world together. Our family life is very happy. I take deep joy and delight in my family. I love mothering my kids, even when they are driving me up a wall. Our 'social life' is simple. We have a few close friends that we hang out with, but otherwise, we spend the bulk of our days together. So, in other (less flattering) words, I maintain a lot of control over my family right now. Not in controlling them, but in controlling their access to the big world 'out there'.



My kids just aren't exposed to a lot of the world. There are a lot of wonderful things out there in the big world. There are new friends, other caring adults who can encourage Diva Child's gifts, new experiences, new foods, classroom pets, arts and crafts and many many more things for a pre-schooler to encounter at school. But there are things that scare me...social structures that little children try on for size...rejection, injustice, materialism, high fructose corn syrup, bad words, adults that are hard and mean.



Now, before you all get the idea that my kids have never eaten high fructose corn syrup or that I have would never lose it or be overly harsh in a bad mommy moment....those are mine to own. They are my mistakes to make. I haven't yet handed either of my children over in this way to experience the world without me.

It is with excitement, nerves, and peace that I prepare my Diva Child for preschool. Oh the stories those teachers will have to tell....

Thank you to Karen and Julie who inspired me to post about this.

Transformation

My office is complete. I am so very happy with how it turned out!! Big Daddy and I have been burning it the last few weeks to transform the space from 'cluttered dumping ground' to beautiful office. I am so pleased!
Before: Okay, to be honest it is not the *real* before. It is much nicer that the gritty 'crap all over the place' look we had going before this slightly better picture.

After: I am really really pleased. I will say that I realize I have to take the tags off the fake plants. I am going to paint inside the window wells as well.














This is the first full on reclaiming a space project that I have ever done. I am just delighted with the outcome.

Now, if anyone is wondering where I am, you all know where to find me!

Small Luxuries

Everywhere out side of New England, road weary travelers pull up to the Starbucks drive-thru in a harried and distracted way; one of many stops along their way as they move through the day.



When I saw the Drive-Thru sign I practically squealed the breaks as I abruptly changed direction to recaffinate.



Now, I do realize that this is shallow. I realize that it makes me look like a lazy person to be that excited about getting my hot cup of goodness without ever leaving my car. As it all turns out it is a royal pain in the ass to drag two little children into the local coffee shop or Starbucks. While I am trying to order I have to keep their hands out of displays, ward off the demands for cookies and treats, then feel guilty that I am getting something but am saying no to the GIANT cookie for the kids, balance my scalding hot coffee while holding two squiggley hands of kids that want to hurl themselves in front of the slow moving mini vans of the other distracted mommies trying to get through stopping off for coffee. So, because of this scene I often drive right on past Starbucks thinking about how nice a Grande Americano with Soy would be and then move along to the next thing on my mental list.



My heart may have skipped a beat when I saw the drive-thru. At age 30, a mother of two children, the feeling that was once reserved for spotting the hot guy across the student court yard is now relegated to a Starbucks drive-thru. I'm not sure if I should laugh or cry....I pick being really happy to have a steaming Grande Americano with Soy in the comfort of my mommy car without ever leaving it.

It's the simple things that can make my day.

The Fresh Salt Air

The sunshine and salt air just transforms me and my family. Each year we make our way to Cape Cod for a family vacation. Big Daddy and I started going there 6 years ago and have been back every year except one. My parents have fallen in love with this tradition and have kept our family vacation alive by renting a big beach house so that we can join them. (THANK YOU mom and dad!!).

When I was in my early 20's I scoffed at the lack of creativity shown by boring old people who would habitually return to the same damn place every year. Now I delight in the simplicity of the 'same damn place' every year. All I really want is the beach and salt air. When the best kid beach ever has been found, why shake that treasure up? Because so much of the time, life with kids is unpredictable, it is nice to at least be familiar with the destination.

Both of my kids are May babies. When we return each August we can really take a step back and look at how much they have grown.

Last year, Man Puppy was weeks old and the two of us suffered in 100+ degree heat and humidity. We spent a lot of time in a cold bath with a fan pointed at us. He was also recovering from a bout of thrush and had a bright purple face from being treated with gentian violet.

This year he was thumping his big Man Puppy feet up and down the wooden floors of the beach house. He was diving into the salt water with the unbridled joy of a toddler without fear. He would cry as we carried his shivering self up to our spot in the sun to warm him back up as his purple bottom lip trembled in sorrow at being pulled from the cold waves.

Diva Child is now more cautious at the ripe old age of 3. She is less fearless of the rolling waves and wily seaweed. She was preoccupied with the existence of jellyfish (I didn't see one while we were there). She enjoyed clinging to me or Big Daddy in the water so long as we promised not to let go and put her down in the water for her feet to touch the pebbly sand.

There were great times visiting with our Natty Uncle from the Mountains. Diva Child was smitten with his head full of dread locks and charming smile.

Man Puppy was 15 months going on 17 as he sat side by side with 'Antz' as he has taken to calling Natty Uncle from the Mountains. He took big giant baby gulps of Uncle's Vitamin Water...he was throwing high fives in a way that was less baby and more teenage boy than I could take!

At the end of the week I am always exhausted by the whole wonderful experience. There is sand that will stay in my car until next year when we return. I have a pile of salty sandy towels waiting for me to shake out and wash. Despite all the work the beach creates, I always return home deeply refreshed.

I keep Crying Baby, Baby Please!

So it seems that after all these years, all of this time, my secret boyfriend finally responded to my silent plea and decided to come into town to put on a rock show just for me.

Okay, well that's how it played out in my mind anyway when I heard that The Police decided to go on tour this summer.

In all actuality, my very wonderful Big Daddy husband got me tickets months ago. At the time we were in the middle of a bad patch of night time parenting and the tickets were a great distraction of good things to come. The anticipation of a night out with my Bid Daddy man to see my favorite band of all time has been as good as the AMAZING experience of seeing The Police play live.

Most of the artists I adore are not great big rock stars. While their concerts have been amazing interactive experiences, there is something different about seeing a widely revered & acclaimed rock band with tens of thousands of other people.

Seeing The Police was a bit like a reunion with old friends, but maybe better. It was a nostalgic experience hearing their legendary songs as only they can play them. At the same time there was a fresh take on their music that showcased their evolution as artists ....it reminded me why they were great to begin with; they have always played their music well. Their presentation of their classic songs was done in a familiar way. To me, it felt like the perfect balance of familiarity with innovation. Sting's voice is as clear and lovely as it has ever been. All of his hallmark yodel like "eyooooo eyo yo yo's" were spot on and in full beautiful force.

My favorite songs of the evening were: Walking on the Moon, So Lonely, I Can't Stand Losing You, Wrapped Around Your Finger, Next to You, Invisible Sun ,Every little Thing She Does is Magic, Walking in Your Footsteps and King of Pain.

There were only two downsides to the evening. First, I really wanted to hear them play Canary in a Coalmine and that didn't happen. But there was enough of my more obscure (if any of their songs can really be called 'obscure') favorites to make up for that omission.
My second complaint has nothing to do with Sting or The Police, but the venue. The parking and crowd control was, at best, abysmally bad. It took us well over an hour to get out of the 'parking area' which amounted to a big field of cars trying to drive every which way without rhyme or reason. Once out of the field, it was at least another 35 minutes to slowly meander to the 'exit' of Rentschler Field.

I feel so fortunate that I was able to go to this show. It did feel like a very special event to go to because it doesn't seem that they will pull a Rolling Stones and Tour, Tour, Tour every summer for the foreseeable future.

Edited to add: While on my long awaited vacation, it occurred to me while I was listening to my boyfriend sing to me via my i pod that, for years, I have been Calling baby baby please as opposed to CRYING baby baby please. Maybe that is why he took so damn long to show up in Hartford. I apparently suck at being a groupie as I do not know the lyrics without flaw. My deepest and sincerest apologies Sting....

An Exciting New Chapter

There has been so much change here in the last several months. One of the things about me is that I seem to thrive on change. One can be assured that I will have some new plan cooking up every 6-12 weeks. Motherhood suits me well in this aspect, as I am really engaged by the 'changyness' of my kids. They grow and learn at such a rapid rate that my whole life seems to shift frequently....and that is perfect for me.

Professionally, several really great things have happened in the last several months. I was finally awarded my undergraduate degree after much debate and waiting. Because I must reinvent myself habitually, I left my university studies to become a massage therapist back in 2002. There was a bit of a hiccup with my credits from massage school transferring back to my university. It was supposed to be seamless transition, but it ended up with my degree being in a 5 year state of stasis. I know am the proud recipient of my Bachelor's degree in Sociology!!! It feels a bit surreal and like a non-event. I may have to borrow a cap and gown and walk around my house for a few hours. It will probably feel more real once the 'piece of paper' arrives in the mail.

I also have completed my birth doula certification that I started in 2003. My best friend and doula partner has left her job and moved closer, in part, to pursue a doula practice together. It is so exciting to move forward with something I love so much with a friend who is equally as excited and passionate about serving women at such a special time in life.

I also ditched the bad massage gig I had going and am preparing to see clients out of my home. My sweet Big Daddy has been helping me get my new massage room ready with lots of painting, sanding, mad math skills, measurement, and hardware installation.. I have really always wanted to practice out of my home. One day I woke up and asked myself, 'why not?!'. It is really a great process to create my own work environment from scratch.

My diva child has been learning how to use the potty & is slated to start preschool this fall. I am enjoying the sweetness and simplicity of this summer with the knowledge that I don't really know what Autumn is going to hold for her or me. I know she will do well in preschool and that she is very ready, but I pause to sigh and wonder where her babyhood has gone.

My man puppy is a walking talking baby who has recently weaned at 14 months. His chubby baby feet and soft baby curls on the back of his head are the last little outward signs of his infancy. I have two little children now, no babies. I was happy to see him through 14 months of breastfeeding, a little relieved that it is finished, but with a very slight pang of 'oh, my baby is big now'.

All of our life changes are not limited to me and the kiddos. My husband is starting a new job in a few weeks that has been hard fought and greatly anticipated. It involves some minimal international travel and may offer us the opportunity to live in Europe some time in the distant future.

It is strange to have so many big life changes unfolding in a complimentary manner. Sometimes it is very clear when you are entering a very special phase of life. I have a strong feeling this is one of those times where things are just a little easier, a little sweeter, and very special.

The slow transition from information overload to ignorance

I like to know what is going on in the world. In fact, I remember reading my grandmother's Newsweek magazines when I was as young as 9. I loved to try and make sense of the political world around me through the political cartoons and bullet point articles. From an early age there was a lot of talk radio, newspapers, TV news, and news magazines floating around my life. I would ask my gram lots of questions about current events. There was political debate in my home for as long as I can remember.

Maybe my long standing interest in the political world is why it feels so foreign for me to be so hopelessly uninformed at the moment. It's not that I decided one day to check out, it slowly happened.

My diva child is 3. She is sensitive, intuitive, and engaged with her surroundings. Nothing slips past her radar. By the time she was 1 or so, it became apparent that I could no longer watch the news when she was in the room. This was due to my own emotional reaction in addition to shielding her from the acutal content.

When Hurricane Katrina was slowly lumbering towards the Gulf coast I was in the first trimester of my pregnancy with Man Puppy and diva child was about 14 months old. I just sat there, jaw dropped and obsessed. Why weren't people leaving? Why wasn't anyone making them leave. Once the whole mess was underway I, like many people, just couldn't understand how in America the poor could be discarded and tossed aside for 'later'. I cried every time the news was on. I really couldn't take it in while growing a baby and caring for my other baby. The anger and sense of helplessness I had while just watching was overwhelming.

To a lesser degree, the daily news bristled me. I don't believe it is just motherhood that has softened me; I think the images of 'the news' have gotten more graphic, more raw...just more everything. So we really need to see the video of the convenience store clerk being shot in the face? (Oh but it's okay, because he survived, right??) Did we really need to see the actual video of a bomb exploding in the midst of a bunch of unsuspecting every-day folks going about their lives? How can these images be sandwiched between the latest starlet 'news' and the weather with only 5 seconds of a description to go with the gut wrenching images? Am I to then believe that daily life is just that much more dangerous?

I don't want to be undisturbed. I really don't want my children to become immune to such imagery. I don't want to see it. I want to be able to know what is going on without the assault of visual violence everywhere I turn.

There has to be a balance. While this has been the summer of blissful ignorance in our house, I feel the weight of responsibility to be informed.

Post your best on line news links! I need to shake this baby up.

Great MD Appointment

What a complete relief. I had my appointment with the surgeon and she is sure that everything is **FINE**.

The stuff we were palpating is, apparently, just dense breast tissue. The calcifications that were found on the films were really normal, but we will follow up with more imagery in 6 months to make sure they aren't changing in a way that would cause concern. The lumps we could feel were not the calcifications. That was not clear to me after having the mammogram and ultrasound. That could have been because I was totally freaked out or it could have been because no one made that distinction.


Either way, I'm done. I am back to my carefree summer. I am so relieved to have the mental space back that the fear of the unknown was occupying.

just a bit more

So, I will be meeting with a surgeon in a week and a half. It is a second opinion of sorts. They will review the images and talk about what they feel is the best course of action here. The radiologist felt comfortable with a 6 month follow up of mammography and ultrasound. Having other physicians review the images and give their opinions can't be a bad thing.





It's still probably nothing. That being said, there is something in me that isn't normal and shouldn't be there and it is scary.





Nothing has changed. I am just going one step at a time. Admittedly, I hate throwing all of the stupid words around. I feel a bit like maybe I am sharing too much in my blog. I want to talk this to death, but I don't want to talk about it to just anyone.





It is a weird paradox. I am sure there are people who know me who are reading this stuff here and are hearing this from my blog. I really am fine. I just have to get this out somewhere where there isn't a lot of pressure or expectation about how I am supposed to feel about all of this.



On one hand I feel like I am over reacting. On the other hand, who isn't scared to death of words like: lump, breast tissue, mammogram, surgeon, breast cancer center.



I have to say I feel very fortunate that I am at least getting appointments in short order. I feel so ignorant and uninformed about the kind of procedures and doctor world I am walking into.



When I was pregnant I had the background of having been a doula, I knew all the words. I understood birth as normal. All of the reading I devoured added to what I had already experienced with other women. It was preparing for something joys and wonderful.



I am doing my best to step away from 'the google' for now. I want more information, but I am afraid of scaring myself shitless with worst case scenarios that I don't understand. I don't even know what to read or where to go other than where I have been referred.



I'm so out of my element and am hanging on to the 'its really probably nothing' with all that I have.



I am about 90% sure that it is nothing, but 10% of me is very afraid that it is something big, bad, ugly, and scary.

In a Moment

My day was a lot of fragmented moments. I had my annual midwifery/OB/GYN exam, tentative plans to go to the pool with friends, and the basic mommy stuff.

I dropped Diva Child off to play with a friend while I took the baby along to my MD appointment. Just another thing to check off my list before moving on to another task. I was happy to see my sweet midwife who has seen me through both of my pregnancies and births.

As she was chatting with me and doing a breast exam she stopped. She made a face. And she palpated some more. She asked me if it was tender, and I said it wasn't. She showed me what she felt, and indeed, a lump.

The rest of the appointment is rather a blur. I was given a few pamphlets about breast health put out by a local women's health cancer center. I was given MD orders for ultrasound and a mammogram. They made an appointment for me while I was in the office for later that afternoon.

I don't know that I can describe the combination of stunned shock, fear, and 'talking myself down' I was doing in the few hours between when I left the office and arrived at the radiology place.

I am only thirty years old. I am healthy. No one in my family has cancer. I don't have any risk factors for breast cancer. I had my kids in my 20's. I breastfed both children and am still nursing my son. This can not be anything. I am a mother. I have to take care of my kids, I can not be sick....

I pretty much rolled all of that around my brain all day feeling really grateful that I was going to be seen the same day. I felt stupid for not knowing there was a lump in my own breast. How could I not feel that? I felt shitty that I felt entitled to be healthy. I shouldn't have cancer. Who the hell deserves cancer anyway....I think every last women who has felt a lump in her breast must go through all the reasons she shouldn't be sick.

So I had my mammogram and ultrasound. I have calcifications in one breast. It doesn't seem to be anything all that alarming or scary. It isn't a 'mass', it is a small group of calcifications that may go away, may change, or may just stay the same. I go back to repeat the same tests in 6 months to see if there are any changes.

I am rattled. I am fine. I did not like the places my brain was going when the fear of all of this started creeping up my throat. I want to be very old and tired when it is time to leave this earth. I want to mother my children into adulthood and love on their children.


As an aside, getting a mammogram was no.big.deal. I got very freaked out while waiting because there were all kinds of directions about how uncomfortable I might feel afterwards, how their may be some discoloration from the compression. That I could take Tylenol for the discomfort. They were initially reluctant to do the mammogram today due to the fact that I am still nursing. Lactating breast tissue is especially dense and hard to photograph, and supposedly very uncomfortable.

I was really nervous when she took the first image....I kept waiting for it to hurt. When I realized she was moving the machine around for a new image I nervously laughed out loud and said 'that's it??!'

Really, thank God that's it....

An Eco-Diet

I am so happy to read the beginnings of Girls for Glaciers. Karen has posted a warm bloggy welcome to them and I just had to mention them as well.

I have also been semi obsessed lately with living in a more thoughtful way in regards to our environment. It started off with me never wanting to clean my bathroom that is attached to the master bathroom because Man Puppy was always napping/sleeping in our room and it always seemed too like the fumes were too strong.

That got me thinking....why would I want to protect him from fumes and not the rest of us? I am endlessly convicted that at a base level, the stuff I want to protect my vulnerable babies from is the stuff that we could all do without.

I gingerly started the process of cleaning with vinegar, baking soda, and essential oils. As I was deconstructing my initial distaste for that vinegar smell....I wondered why I am so accepting of that 'clean' bleach smell? It has been a paradigm shift for me. But truly, that strong vinegar smell dissipates quickly even if you don't use essential oils. I have to say, my bathrooms and kitchen sparkle with my crunchy cleaning products. Vinegar is as effective as bleach and a whole lot better for everyone. It turns out vinegar and baking soda even works on the pee spots on your carpet from potty learning pre-schoolers.

I also transitioned to using reusable shopping bags and totes at the grocery store. I am trying to now wrap my mind around using them everywhere. It is really silly that I think bags=grocery store. What about Target? What about other stores? I don't need disposable bags. We are getting there, slowly but surely.

I was very excited to purchase a share at a local organic CSA. Sadly, I submitted my payment too late and they had already sold all of the shares for the season. There are many local farm stands I can visit, and there is always next year.

This article about plastic in our ocean's made me want to wordlessly rock in a corner for a few days. My friend Karen gave me a heads up about Ikea's glass storage in various sizes. Not only do they look pretty and stack nicely and securely, they are glass with a plastic seal and glass lid. Less plastic in contact with food seems like it could only be a good thing.

I still need to work on my addiction to zip lock baggies. A message board friend mailed me some wax paper bags, and I have started to use more wax paper in general. I think the wax paper bags could work wonderfully for packing up dry snacks in the diaper bag. I am not as concerned about pretzels in a zip lock plastic bag when it comes to health, but again, I am trying to leave my dependence on disposable plastic bags behind. If it has a minuscule or possible health benefit, that would be icing I suppose!

Karen also passed along a recipe for laundry soap. I am sure it is less toxic to the environment and it seems to be cheaper. It feels like a lofty goal this morning, but I think I will give it a try! I have stopped using my beloved dryer sheets when I discovered that they are one of the most toxic things in our homes.

There are a lot of other things I want to work on. Anyone know of a solution for automatic diswashwers? I came across something that says the soap residue on our dishes is a carcinogen.

Baby steps....baby steps.

Please, offer up your best simple ideas in the comments, or better yet at Girls for Glaciers.

Something in the air

I live near my childhood home. 7 miles from home to be exact.

I was pitching in last night to let the dog out while my parents were away. It was that beautiful twilight time of day...a humid but cool Summer evening. My kids were safe in their beds while big daddy was doing stuff at home. I had some good tunes going with my windows open and I was immediately transported back at least a decade. That car ride filled me with the carefree feeling I had for all of my teenage years and early 20's.

Once at home, I took my old man childhood dog out and ran around the back yard with him. For brief moments, I really could have been 16...except both the dog and I are a bit more haggard then when I really was 16. To be honest, the dog is more haggard than *I* am...of course!

I went in my quiet home....rifled through the fridge to see if they had anything good and sat at the kitchen table. I could almost see and hear my grandmother sitting in her chair in her room with the TV squawking loudly. I closed my eyes for a minute and could feel the heat from all of her bedroom lights, see the paper clutter on her little table, neatly organized in piles. I really wanted to ask her if she had heard any good celeb dirt today. I wanted to brag on my babies.

While I was sitting at the kitchen table I saw a checkbook. Being nosy as I am, I picked it up and flipped through it. It was my grams check register. No checks, but her neatly balanced register in her distinct handwriting. I read each line like it would mean something. 'Gift for Mama Sarita....ATM withdrawl...Blair's....Lodge Dues.

There was an abrupt blue line where the handwriting changed to my mother's script. The things started to be sad purchases .... The Eatery (catering for the funeral reception), something monuments....Church....medical bill payments.

Even though she has been gone for 2 years this week, my bigger than life gram's presence is greatly missed. I want to hear more scandalous stories about island life 50 years ago. I want to talk about how Tom Cruise has totally flipped his shit...and what a damn shame it is for someone who is so good looking. I want to know my Gram's theories about what the merits and drawbacks of Scientology are and how that has played a role... I want to play devil's advocate when my gram blathers on and on about the greatness and wonder of the almighty Oprah...you know, the important life conversations.

I want to learn how to decorate a cake....what did she leave out of the instructions for the family birthday cake?? I want to bicker with her a little. I want her to be in awe of her great grandchildren like she was when we all lived together for Diva Child's first year of life. I wish she could have met Man Puppy. I want to sit at the kitchen table with her....her in her seat, mine across from her as we drink coffee and talk about how its too damn sunny in the kitchen.

The evening was such a sensual experience. Between the perfect temp of the air, the light of the end of the day, the smell of my childhood home, and seeing my gram's handwriting, I may have believed that I had fallen back into time. Gram was gone at a lodge event, my parents were out ...Dad at a baseball game, my mom doing some mom thing....my brother was out with friends, and I had stopped home to shower and change before a night out on the town flirting and laughing with friends.


It is amazing to me just how close we are to a different time and place; how quickly it is all recalled and felt. I wonder if I will feel the same reckless thrill at age 75 when driving down the road on a summer evening; windows down & music cranking?

Another Special Birthday

~~~Disclaimer: I can't figure out the stupid formatting for these pictures, so you will have to figure out the chronological order all on your own!~~~

Dear Diva Child,

Nothing has altered my life in a more significant way than your arrival into my being. From the moment I knew you were there I was forever changed. I knew you were my daughter. As I walked from the medical building on Sept. 11, 2003 back to my job, my hands instinctively went to rest on my not-yet-changed belly and I acknowledged you. I knew in that instant, when it was just you and me, that my heart would swell in joy and pride and would also feel the sharp needling pain that comes with the of loving of a child....my child, my daughter, my diva child. I couldn't believe I was pregnant! It was the best most delightful surprise of my life. I could hardly contain my excitement; I was sure that I was the luckiest person alive.

You are white hot. White like the hottest star. You and I share an intensity that creates a closeness that I hardly have words for. You read my mind on a daily basis. I think something, you say it out loud. I see the wheels turning in your head and understand you. I totally get that you need your socks just so. I know that you like to snuggle, but just not too close. When you say to me "I so sustrated!!!!!(frustrated) Hmph !" I also get that. I'm sure you picked that up from me.

Now that you are three I know that you need to venture out a bit more. I am ready, sort of. I think you feel the same. I know that is why you walk so close to the edge in everything. You need to be independent, and you need to know Mama is there, no matter what. Even when you so obviously cross the line with me.

Diva Child, I love you so much. Being my first born, I am riveted by just about everything you say and do. I love your spunk, your kindness, your clear sense of self. I love your snuggles and your deep connection to me. I love that, some days, you think you want to off me so that you can marry Daddy. I love that you squeal in delight when your father walks in the door each night. It has never unsettled me, it has always made me glad that you are also so connected and attached to Daddy. I am proud of what a wonderful sister you are to Man Puppy. Your tenderness and patience with him from the first moment has humbled me. Even now that he is only a pound lighter than you and pummels you as brothers do, you maintain a sweetness...even when he grabs those bouncy curls and yanks!

Thank you for turning my life upside down and making me your Mama. I have learned so much about myself through you and because of you. I could never have foreseen how wonderful my life as a mom could be.

With all of my heart,

Mama

frustration

You know, I really want to write a really eloquent piece about the sorry state of childcare in America. I am too tired, frustrated and angry, so I will just vent.

At my massage gig there is short term childcare available. Part of me practicing where I work is that my children can play while I am giving massages. The longest they are ever there is 3 hours at a time, and that is not often. I guess I just assumed that people working there really like kids and are happy to be there. It turns out I have made all kinds of assumptions that 'made and ass out of you and me' so to speak.

Its a million little paper cuts. That is pretty much the only way I can describe the situation. There are lots of things from childcare to many other concerns but I will stick to the two most recent problems with the baby room.

I have had to explain, multiple times that Scooby-Do is not appropriate for my children to watch. My child has said out loud to the care provider in front of me that ITS TOO SCARY to then be told that it would be turned off if it 'got too scary'. HELLOOOO that is what the child just SAID.
After this happened and it had been the fourth time I had spoken to the person who works that day, I went up a level. I was told I should 'remind them each time'. I know she only sees me and my kid once a week, but I know I do not need 4 reminders about something like that. Especially when a child is standing in front of me telling me they are frightened.

I have happily packed sippy cups of rice milk or water for my kids. I have packed along things for them to eat each and every time I have gone there with my children. After several days of diarrhea from my diva child I inquired, with the not yet 3 year old, if she had shared any snacks with any other kids while at mommy's work. My child listed off a bunch of snacks she happily has shared with her friends. Except my child has a dairy allergy. I was under the, apparently misguided, impression that kids would eat what their mommies packed and that the adult there would supervise that.

Diva child has had a very very upset belly for a week now. 3-4 bad messy diapers a day and a flaming red tiny hiney to match.

Today when I very very nicely explained that my kids were only to share with each other the snacks I had provided due to allergies.....and could you, dear grown-up please help diva child with that, she turned to my child and said "No stealing snacks today diva child"....

Yeah....because not yet three year olds should be held responsible when left in the care of paid adults who are supposed to care for them and protect them.

I'm completely livid. I am trying to stay as calm and level headed as possible. I would flip out and go out in a flash of flames right this minute if I felt that I could. My kids are not being harmed in a way that will scar them for life. The snack sharing has stopped and I am formulating my exit plan. I have not yet decided what I am going to say when I go, but I am pretty sure I am going to outline the 'concerns' I have about their 'childcare'. If I felt I could energize the place and work to make it better I would in a heartbeat. The problem is, my small and valid requests are greeted with internal eye rolling....you know, they aren't actually rolling their eyes, but you feel them go as soon as your back is turned. I am the 'high maintenance mom who thinks she is so much better than all of us'. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am really nice, but I do take issue with lazy 'childcare'. I am direct, I tell them what I need, and I have never asked for anything special or outside of the range of normal. I am punctual to pick up my kids. My kids are really sweet, gentle, and well behaved.

I am so angry that I have now resorted to complaining about my job on the Internet. Openly, boldly, and without apology.

Seriously, I almost hope someone reads it. Guess what? I'm gonna quit as soon as I possibly can...like next week maybe when I figure out how I can tweak my budget to make it work.

Can a blog post be considered 'giving notice?'

Happy Birthday

Sweet Man Puppy,

You are a delight to your mama's heart. I am so happy you are mine. I could not have wished for such a perfect fit in our family. Your impish and lovey personality endear you to me every day.

At this time, one year ago, you and I were in hard labor together. It was long road getting to that day, but on May 11, 2006 it was finally time. My whole pregnancy was so different from my first. In my labor with you, I stayed focused on you, sweet boy. I talked to you, I rocked with you, I had the hardest contractions that I had ever experienced with you. Our labor was hard...very hard. I know it was hard on you too, neither of us got much of a break, and we did most of the work without the benefit of your bag of waters.

To be honest, a lot of it is a blur. We both gave it our best....we rested and gave it lots of time. In the end you made your grand debut at 6:33 pm via c-section. As we were going in for surgery I boldly proclaimed that you would weigh 9lbs 5oz. I guessed higher than anyone and I was only off by 2 oz. You weighed 9lbs 3 oz and were beautiful. You were so big and little all at once. You were never alone...my beloved midwife went right to you, then your daddy scooped you up to bring to me. I kissed your sweet face and couldn't wait to hold you!

In recovery I got to really lay eyes on you. You looked just like my side of the family, even from those first moments. You have only grown to look like me and my brother more and more each day. Your experienced mama knew how to nurse this time, and thankfully, so did you.

I delight in your very physical experience of life. As I write you are dancing around the room and now climbing on a rocking chair. The day you figured out how to roll over (at less than 3 months) started a non stop flurry of movement and activity.

Your relaxed personality is a gift to your high strung mama. You are not a fussy child and are easily pleased. Thank you. I have no idea where this quality has come from, but it is a gift to us all. I will do my best to not drive you insane with my high maintenance self. I'll work on dad and your diva sister as well.

I love you Man Puppy! Happy First Birthday!

Love,

Mama

ps thank you so much for saying mama first. I won't forget it. It will probably get you some leniency you don't deserve when you are 16.

Lots going on

We seem to have been spit out the opposite end of a long sickness filled late winter/early spring. I am so grateful. Diva child is still coughing a bit, man puppy is teething....but that is fine. After the last run of sickness, I will be careful not to complain about expected teething.

In my real, grown-up work life, things have become suddenly busy. Massage clients are coming out of the wood work, lots of doula clients are inquiring about my services. It is a feast or famine type of dynamic lately. All in the right time. I was very pleased that things were so slow from February to April as it didn't require lots of cancellations on my part.

My husband is working a lot. I am just moving back into regular doula work. I have a lot of nerves about it all....the unpredictability, the unknowns in regards to childcare, the commitment required, will it really fall into place? A doula friend of mine has a great post that pretty much sums up my feelings as well HomeGrown: The Scent of a Mother. The moving between the roles of doula and mommy can be exhausting at times. Sometimes it is just right. Energizing and great. Other times I wonder what kind of a racket I am running. Thankfully, all of my conflicting feelings over this stuff stays in its rightful place. I have yet to stress out any clients over my own childcare woes.

In the meantime, I also am soul searching about going back to school. I wonder If I should just jump in with both feet and become a midwife. It is very difficult to work in a flawed and broken system as a doula. It is sometimes downright depressing to watch the hospital system break down the prior convictions a mother held about birth right up until she becomes the patient that need curing. Would it be any better to be a midwife? In my state, certified nurse midwives have to work under an OB. I think the OB has the final 'say' in patient care in that scenario. Do I want to dive my family $70,000 in the hole (not to mention all the other sacrifices) to then be unhappy because I will be in the same pinch only providing patient care? I am going to sit on it for a bit. I'm going to keep attending births and try to see if I am more of a doula or a midwife. The roles are so different, and I need to know which one I want fill.

On a related note, I found an amazing website about Birth: The Play . On Labor Day, this play is being performed all over to promote mother friendly childbirth. They also want to get women talking to one another about their birth stories. Women need to talk to one another about their birth experiences. We need a way to discuss our births without being judged. We have all been a part of a birthing system that has harmed women and her powerful ability to give birth. Many of us have beautiful birth stories, and many of us bear the scars of forced procedures or coercion. I feel so strongly that we need to stop judging the women in the middle. It is so hard once you are in 'the machine' to do something different. The stakes are high ...no one wants harm to come to their unborn child. When women start complaining about those women who want an epidural in the parking lot, or those women who are trying to 'prove' something by having a natural birth, we all lose. The system we birth in needs lots of change, and we are all distracted by sisterly judgements and squabbles when we could be making it better for all of us AND our babies.

How we do that? Beats me.

And with that, I'm going to now be mommy to my actual kids!

Interview Meme

Thank you to Karen for the challenging interview questions!!


1. What aspects of parenting do you believe impact you most profoundly, in ways that have changed your essential you-ness?

Motherhood, in general, has reshaped my essential 'me-ness'. I have become much more patient (shocking really, as I have a long way to go in that department). I have become more willing to surrender to moments...to find the joy in small things instead of always looking ahead to the next big thing. There is much happiness and joy in living in the moment. Even now, as I write this in the middle of my traaaashed living room I am savoring the quiet of my children napping at the same time! Little joys like this are no longer lost on me. I could be all annoyed and frustrated that I can't be doing xyz...but I have learned the art of choosing happiness. Some days I am better at that than others.

In an instant, I went from me to us. For almost the entire first year of my daughter's life I referred to her and me as 'us' as if we were one unit. I know when I got married that happened to a smaller extent. While we were linked together, there wasn't the same urgency of care that happened for me with marriage. Having a child completely uprooted my sense of solitary self. My first child holds that special place in my heart as far as having been the one to blaze a trail straight into my heart and mind. I don't mean this is a freaky creepy way...more in that I really have become a more selfless person...to my kids, to my husband, and really all around. I completely still take care of me and have my own identity, but I am always juggling the important needs of my family as well. I do so with a sense of love and joy (most of the time!) because of my shared investment in who they are and who they are becoming. I want to rearrange my life for my family and who they are as individuals. I don't know that I could have ever really foreseen feeling that way before I had children.

2. Conversely, what parts of yourself are so essential to you do you see unchangeable that no amount of baby poop, spilled sippy cups and cheerios dust could ever change?

I do have a tendency to have 'itchy feet'. I love to travel and explore new places and experiences. In motherhood, I think I am adventurous in offering my children new experiences. We haven't gone on safari or anything exotic like that, but I do things like take them out for Indian food with me. Lucky for me I have been blessed with non-picky eaters, so they usually are game. I have been able to reshape my expectations a bit. I used to always carry my passport with me in the off chance I could just go anywhere at a moments notice. Our adventures are more kid centered, but my love of travel and adventure is something I hope to impart to my kids and include them in at normal levels for their ages...oh yeah, and our income!

This question is so hard for me. I feel like I keep growing and changing all of the time. When I think of myself 10 years ago I see a much less self assured young woman who was a bit overwhelmed by all the opportunities ahead. I was so lonely. I have always been really feisty and full of adventure. The anchoring of my husband and family feels like a refuge that has allowed for me to really grow into myself while surrounded by love and safety. To me, it feels a lot easier to take on the world with your peeps at your side.

3. If you guys could take a break from the kids( of course leaving them in excellent hands &knowing for sure they would not be scarred by your absence), where would you go and why there?

Ah, Karen, you seem to know me so well. Thank you for taking the mental strain off of pretend worrying about my children's psyches.

My answer is probably going to be colored by the fact that I have been convalescing sick people since February. A beach anywhere in the Mediterranean sounds great. Eating some really good Greek food...exploring some ruins. Sunning myself like a lazy cat all day with the occasional break for swimming. That pretty much sounds like heaven to me. It also sounds awfully romantic.

4. What are the things you love/hate about message boarding vs. blogging? What ways do these similarities/differences influence how you choose to spend the limited amount of time we mommies have to ourselves?

There is one message board that I really love. It is mainly a mama message board. It feels like living in a virtual community of other mama. There is a wide range of people there...from totally crunchy to self proclaimed anti crunchies. What I like about Mama Drama in particular is that there is very little moderation. You say what you mean, and mean what you say. You have every right to be offended and say your piece...but everyone owns their own words. If you are obnoxious there people will call you on it, and fast. If you have insightful, interesting, and witty things to say, you will quickly become a 'regular'. It is a small board that has a pretty decent amount of traffic. People will thoughtfully respond to threads. There is a tremendous sense of community there.

I love blogs as well but find that I am more thoughtful with my posts and comments in the blogosphere. I think that is a general difference. There are several blogs I love to read but I sometimes get overwhelmed with keeping up with it all. Some of that may be familiarity. I don't participate in many message boards, I just have the one that I participate in regularly.

But there isn't as much participation pressure with blogs. I can read and read and read and read. I am often moved...and I do comment quite a bit. I tend to blog about a specific topic that I want to really write about. I usually write it more for me than anyone else.

In a message board I am more prepared to hear other perspectives...have people agree or disagree. So far, my wee little blog hasn't been the hotbed of controversy. I do love the comments. I like that people read it. So I don't know. I like blogs and message boards for the same reason. It is a connection and community. If I feel like doing something fast paced I go to the message board. If I am more in the mood to read and write, I go to the blogs.

I have found that people can be very scathing at message boards. I know that also transpires on blogs as well, but I just haven't seen it or experienced it to the same extent as on message boards. There is also the tendency of people to 'pack up their toys and go home' on a message board. Someone who has been participating for a long time suddenly get their panties in a wad and will post a big 'screw you bitches, I'm outta here, for ever, I swear it this time'....and then they try to sneak back in a week or two. I don't really love that. Either go down in flames and never go back, or cool yourself down, take an unannounced break and come back when you are over it.

I rarely get seriously worked up at a message board or blog. I like to debate, I like to think...but if I am genuinely angry I stop. This is supposed to be fun for me, not stressful. There is too much actual heartache out there...real broken relationships in peoples lives...for me to take a message board or blog to heart.

I have yet to see the big drama whoreish goodbye for ever post or comment on a blog.

5. Describe 3 factors in your life, from childhood onwards, that are currently influencing your major parenting choices (you know hot topics like attachment, breastfeeding and homeschooling or not...)

1) My own highly sensitive personality
I would say I fall into the 'highly sensitive' personality. I have always been very sensitive and have been marked as the most sensitive person in my own family of origin. I am probably the most sensitive person in my little family as well. Because of this I think the whole attachment parenting concept resonated with me. I really wanted to impart an unshakable connection between myself and my children by being closely 'attached'. The language of all of this is annoying to me because I think most people want these things. I wanted to lay a foundation of attachment so the kids could grow into independent adults who know and love themselves. I think the balance in this is allowing them to grow. Not to stifle their development by insisting on any set stuff....(babywearing, co-sleeping, breastfeeding being the big 3 of 'attachment parenting), but to use those good things and work with the child and what they need while balancing how it is all working for me as mama. As a new mom I felt very bound by an attachment 'code' of sorts. But as I have settled into this mama gig, I have become more kind to myself. My needs and tolerances are so important as well...All the babywearing in the world doesn't balance out a crabby, strung out, stressed out mama. So there really are no hard and fast rules here when it comes to child rearing philosophies.

2) I trust myself and my husband to make good parenting decisions
Given that we are both learning as we go along we know we are going to make mistakes. But I know we both love our kids so much and will make the best decisions for them as individuals. I hesitate to say that I will *never* homeschool. It isn't something that really gets me excited or speaks to my heart. But if it were in the best interest of one of my kids then I would totally consider it, research it, and give it a whirl. My kids are so little still, I hesitate to get too attached to how I think things should be or what life will be like. I have been really blessed with a pretty well behaved and compliant 2 year old. A lot of that has been her disposition. I would like to think we have done a good job teaching her as well, but man...its shaky ground when parents take all the credit. I don't wish to tempt fate or enrage mama's who have challenging kids by going there!!

3) I have high expectations
I have high hopes and expectations for my kids. I want to always encourage them to do their diva child and man puppy best. I want for them to find joy in the simple things of life while doing their best job; their own personal best. One doesn't need to compare themselves with so and so if you are just striving for your own best work. Be it in kindness, compassion, school work, sharing, a career...One doesn't have to be the brightest shining star in the universe to feel pride in giving it his or her all. I can lead an extraordinary ordinary life...with passion, love, joy...I hope that they will want that too. I believe that I parent them in a way that encourages them to do their best. I really recoil from the 'be the best of all' mentality. I don't want to set my kids up to feel like they will never measure up if they come in 'second'. I have seen really beautiful and talented people just loose their passion for life when they can't be 'first'. I would hate to see my children shy away from experiences or activities for fear of failure. So much living is lost that way.


So, the answers to #5 feel kind of esoteric and abstract...but I'm just gonna run with it.

More from me soon

As to not gross out any of my blog readers, I have taken a break from blogging so I don't venture into the uncomfortable realm of sharing the details of the violent stomach bug that has gripped my daughter the last 3 days.

I will say this...I'm glad I have a steam cleaner, electrolyte drinks stain, and maybe a movement of this bug to the lower GI tract has been just the inspiration I have needed to help my daughter use the potty every time.

Wish me luck....so far, the BRAT diet hasn't come flying out of my child today...yet.

Ah to be delightfully self absorbed

My Mother-in-law purchased an artsy children's board book called Brush Mona Lisa's Hair. It is a book that features well known works of art such as (duh) Mona Lisa, Girl with a Pearl Earring, and The Laughing Cavalier. The author's added textural stuff to the paintings such as hair on Mona Lisa, an actual earring on Girl with a Pearl Earring, and an actual lacy collar on The laughing Cavalier.

So, on page one, opposite the great work Mona Lisa the text reads:

Look inside and take a peek.
Let's play a game of find and seek.

Look at the lovely lady.
Why is she smiling?
Can you brush her messy hair?

(I am pretty sure Da Vinci would take great offense, but I digress)

So I ask Diva Child...Why is she smiling.

Mommy, she is smiling at MEEEEE! AT MEEEEEEE!!

I'm not sure about her but I am totally smiling.

Why Lollipops?

Listen universe, I have a major pet peeve to take up with you. As a mother of a soon to be 3 year old and a soon to be 1 year old I am doing my very best to feed my kids well. Thus far, I have two good non picky eaters. I am generous with 'treats', meaning good yummy sugary stuff. I am by no means stingy. I make cookies, I buy cookies. I always have a supply of dark chocolate.

My thought is that if I am going to eat something that isn't especially 'good' for me or the kids, it ought to be tasty...real....yummy. I tend to stay away from high fructose corn syrup. Did I outlaw jellybeans? No! I am a fun mommy. I let jellybeans abound for my big kid on Easter. I didn't buy them myself, but when her grandparents gave her a basket I was ready to let her eat the candy!

Grandparents have free license in my house with treats. It isn't frequent enough to be a problem...but what is everyone elses excuse?

Why oh why oh why does the rest of the world want to give my kid a lollipop? It is the day after Easter folks. We passed the bank and diva child says "Oh, Mommy, you forgot to go to the bank!! I want a lollipop". I explained that I didn't need to go to the bank and that the bank isn't actually a lollipop dispensary.

We went to the Library today. You know, the place where my kid got corrected by a librarian the millisecond she happened to run. There was a huge thing of lollipops at the check out. The mom ahead of me let her older child have one and I was the meaaaaan mommy who said no. Whatever. It was 4:45 and my husband wasn't coming home before bed time. It's not lollipop time. The little boy with the lollipop realized that I was not going to let her have one and took it out of his mouth and offered it to diva child. A sweet gesture that I quickly intercepted.

So mama decided to go to the liquor store to pick up a celebratory bottle of wine for a job well done by Big Daddy. He got his yearly merit raise and I wanted to celebrate. So we go in and my daughter ASKS the guy if they have lollipops. (Apparently at the ripe old age of 2.75 she has been in enough liquor stores to know they stock lollipops...I'm not sure what that reflects, but it probably isn't good).

He hands her a lollipop.

What's a mama to do?! How many times in one day do I want to be anti lollipop lady? I swear lollipops bring out the worst in me....it ends up with me nagging her not to chew them, picking hairs off of them, then taking it away because it is mealtime/nap time/too fuzzy to eat.

I thought balloon's were bad...at least they don't alter my child's blood sugar.

Our living room suite is, like, so last week

Just before we all got sick I posted about our new idea for sleep. It was so creative and great. Anything for more sleep, right?

I'm so over it.

It may have something to do with the fact that sick children have been coughing and wiping their snot on my pillow. Maybe the problem is that we stopped breaking the big living room bed down since we were all laying around all day. Leaving it up means that errant O's and crumbly bits of toddler funk have made their way to the place I like to sleep. How about my almost 3 year old running across it with her wet shoes on? You get the idea. It was starting to feel like a family of rats lives here. No matter if I changed the sheets, having all that kid activity happening in my 'bed' just killed the 'living room five star hotel suite' fantasy I had going on.

And here it sits...starring me down 'you know you want to take a nap...they *are* both sleeping...what's a few O's and bed peppers?'
(bed peppers=unknown sandy stuff at the end of your bed when it has been much too long between sheet changings)

I just.can't. do. it. little man puppy is sleeping in his crib in our room...diva child is sleeping in her room. That leaves the funky family nesty thing that I now believe is talking to me, or the couch...or tea and blogging.

ah...sleep is overrated anyway.

The babies are getting big!

I can't bring myself to say 'growing up'. That sounds like something you say about your teenager who has just left for the prom. Both of my kids are barreling towards their birthday's at an alarming rate. My diva child will be 3 and my little man puppy will be 1.

Karen's post on the subject sums up my feelings well. My man puppy has been walking for a few weeks now. He has 6 bruises on his head and face to prove it. He is doing really well for a walking baby! He even managed to climb up onto our couch and jump around. The look of glee was priceless.

He is also entertaining us with his bits of talking and humor. He has been signing 'all done' for about a week now. Today after I tortured him with some saline spray up his stuffy nose he was frantically flapping 'all done' and said something that sounded an awful lot like all done. Yesterday I was using a puppet to play with him. I stood up with him on my hip and he pointed at the ceiling hooks (where we hang the puppet theatre from). He was laughing and bouncing as he pointed...he wanted me to do the real deal and put on a puppet show!

This morning he asked for 'wa-wa'...water in a sippy cup. Watching language acquisition is the most thrilling thing for me. I love the tiny window into his baby brain...to know, with certainty, what he would like from me.

Another post that got me all mushy about my kids was from doodaddy. It made me remember my daughter's baby hood and 'oneness'. The year diva child was one was very special for me. We had just moved to our first purchased home. In fact, we closed on diva child's birthday. It was a great summer of diva child toddling around, talking, but still being very much a baby. We could do so many more things now that she was bigger and we understood her better. I was soon pregnant with man puppy. I really savored the time that I had at home with just me and diva child. I had no idea what I was in for with a second child, but I knew the time I had with my daughter was special.

To see the little girl my diva child is growing into ....it is staggering to me. The only remnant of her babyhood are the diapers. Her face is delicate but determined. The pudgy cheeks have melted into cheekbones and big eyes. Her legs and arms are so long! She is so little and big at the same time. Her three word sentences are much, much longer and articulate. The baby who never left my lap, breasts, or sling, now is orchestrating tea parties, disciplining her dolly's (with a striking resemblance to how I have redirected her earlier in the day), and playing with her little brother with much laughter and squealing.

The two of them adore each other. They have a connection that is entirely outside of their relationship with me and big daddy. Seeing that develop from my pregnancy to today is poignant.

ode to my lost voice

I have made it out alive
Just hoping for the best
I never thought I would survive
what I really need is rest

mommying with out a voice
with a toddler and a babe
If given this or that choice
I say, take an afternoon in the shade (okay it doesn't *really* rhyme, give a mama a break)

When a mommy whispers stop! the toddler tantrums on
it takes lots of sounds like shhhst!! until the moment is now gone

whaaaah whaaaah whaaaah cries the babe with the ear infection
Today I learned you can use a silent puppet to gain his affection

with toys all around me
I am brewing some tea
dreaming Ive been sent to the sanatorium, to recover by the sea

big daddy better come home quick, groceries in his possession
So now I can move on to my latest obsession

laying on my living room floor, like we have rented a suite
watching my new cable tv, having something to eat.

little voice where have you gone...hurry home once more
because this mama is SO DONE and I need to talk at the family I adore.