I just finished reading In Their Own Way by Thomas Armstrong, PhD (although the copy I got from my local library is the 1987 edition. This is the 2000 edition. I can't testify to the differences). I LOVE this book. It really focuses on students labeled with learning disabilities (which the author argues don't really exist. His theory is that there are just different types of intelligences and the school systems only teach to two of the seven which leaves all others behind), but there's a wealth of information for all parents--both those who school at home and in the school system. Homeschooling is briefly mentioned, but the focus is on working with a school system. Still, there are many great ideas for teaching to the different types of intelligence.
One thing that's pretty interesting is that the author specifically tells you to avoid filing your child away into one focus. He points out that children may fit the description of one more so than any of the others, but you can most likely find other focuses that fit your child as well.
When reading through the 7 learning styles, I found myself in a number of them. It's an odd sensation to read the descriptions and about one thing, think, "That's me exactly," but in the same topic, there will be something that I never did. For so long, we've been taught, "You're this or that." To hear that we can fall into a number of different categories is very interesting and pretty eye-opening.
The differences in the way my kids learn prompted me to delve more deeply into learning styles. When schooling the older kids, I noticed Girl2 could not figure out most of the answers on a clock worksheet. Yet when we play with the toy clock, she can give accurate answers. I found another sheet that gave the digital time with a blank clock. Rather than writing down the time based on the position of the hands, it gives the time and the student draws the hands. She got nearly all of them right on her own without a meltdown (she's VERY hard on herself and flips out easily).
Oh, oh, oh, that's another great part of the book. I never realized how much the brain shuts down when children are stressed. It tends to be a vicious cycle with Girl2. She works herself up even before she tries. So even if it's something she knows, she'll already be too freaked out to give an answer. So I get annoyed and she then gets more stressed. The book, though, features several simple breathing and visualization exercises to help kids teach themselves to calm down. I've tried breathing exercises with Girl2 in the past, but usually without much luck. I actually tried the visualization with her last night and found that works really well. With her sister, though, not so much.
Inspired by the book, I decided to mix things up a bit today. Instead of just thinking up lists of nouns, verbs or adjectives, we acted some out. First we played a verb charade game where one acted out an activity and we had to guess. We kind of made it up as we went along. When they wanted to add sounds, we did. When they wanted to use their toys as part of the act, we did. Then we acted out nouns. If they acted out or guessed the wrong type, we used that as a chance to review the difference. We even tried to think up the appropriate word that would go with that opposite guess (i.e. if they acted out "Rocking" a baby while we were doing nouns, we talked about how "Mother" would be a noun that would do that action). Then we made up a song about verbs (to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star: "I like these action words; singing swinging those are verbs." We changed out the actual verbs every few verses. The kids got to pick which ones we put in the song).
From there, they asked to play the addition card game. I made that one up from Arthur's Tower of Cows game and I've been surprised by how well it works and how much they like it. I only printed the number cards, not the rest of the game. All 3 of us draw cards and flip them over. They range from 1-4 and they have pictures of the number of cows on there, so they work as manipulatives. There are lots of ways to use the cards. The kids tell me which numbers are the greatest and which are the least. They put them in numerical order. They add them up. They add different ones and tell me which sums are the greatest and the least. Today, on their own, they started adding 3 digits. Granted, the numbers are simple, but still, I'm impressed that they can do it and that they WANTED to. A few days after we first played the game, we were all in the car and we randomly asked them to add different numbers. When we asked for 3+3, Girl2 gave us her answer immediately without having to count on her fingers. When we asked about it, she said, "I remember that from the cow game."
During that math game, I noticed the kids were getting hyper, so after playing for a while, I suggested one of the Leap Pad reading DVDs. They're watching that now. I could tell they needed to calm down and I figured that would help.
Some days, homeschooling wears me down. I was so tempted to put them in the school system this year. Some days are just awful. Then we have a day like today and I feel wonderful about homeschooling. It's so neat that I can tailor the day to suit them. We can make up our own games. I can find a different way to approach something if I see them struggling. When they're too revved up to focus, we can either run around to burn off the energy or do something calming to bring them back down. Plus the school day never ends. There's no bell at 3 o'clock, so they never think learning is over. They've asked to "do school" at all hours. I think that's pretty neat.
I'm so glad I found that book. It has given me a whole bunch of ideas for how to teach to the different intelligences. And let me tell ya, it's SO much easier to find what works for their particular focus rather than trying to use what works for me or what's readily available (which actually tends to be one in the same). I think the book is a great resource for any parent and/or teacher. I highly recommend it. I'm having a much better day as a result of reading it. :-)
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
My OB saved my life.
My OB saved my life. My OB almost killed me (and my children). This was all during the same pregnancy.
Katie's comment on my OB/Midwifery post got me thinking. I, too, can say an OB saved my life. Problem is, it was the OB who put me in danger in the first place.
First and foremost, I must say that OBs do have their place. They do save lives. Often, though, they create emergencies or make situations appear as though they are emergencies when they are not. Midwives are trained to calmly assess. OBs are trained to provide medical interventions to correct the problem or the perceived problem. Often times, there are circumstances that doctors consider high risk whereas a midwife does not. This isn't because midwives are blind, but rather because midwives are trained to recognize and treat challenges very early. They want to keep you in their care and the only way to do that is to keep you low risk. OBs typically don't have that focus on prevention because there's the idea that they can treat whatever comes along. Granted, there are situations where OBs can provide care that a midwife cannot. I'm not denying that. If a situation like that occurs, a midwife is trained to recognize it quickly so that the mother can either transfer to an OB's care or can be taken to the hospital. Midwifery is not opposed to obstetrics. They can actually work hand-in-hand if need be.
The Midwifery model of care includes preventing challenges (aka "complications"). They have diet guidelines to keep you healthy. They provide tests to check for problems (although these are typically far less invasive and far less often than the tests required with an OB). That way, they can help you come up with a treatment or, if necessary, refer you to an OB if one can better complete your care. That, however, seems to be fairly rare and in those cases, you may be able to continue seeing the midwives for some or all of your prenatal care. Midwives typically have access to standard medical treatments (medications, labs, etc), but many are also extensively informed on more natural alternatives which have been used and proven for centuries. You won't be denied a necessary prescription drug, but she may recommend either an alternative or a natural treatment that compliments the prescription. Although, typically, with midwifery, the final decision is yours.
The Obstetric model of care is that anything can be treated. You will be tested repeatedly during your pregnancy. Although, there is very little preventative medicine. If the problem continues, you may be given a prescription. If it persists, you may be given a number of different prescriptions and most likely more tests. If those don't help, there's bedrest. If that doesn't help, there's always induction. If that fails, there's always a c-section for mom. If it's too soon, well, there's the NICU for the baby.
For those women who truly have a higher risk (and the OB model of care considers many patients to be "High risk" even when a midwife might not consider them so), OBs are fabulous. Please don't think I'm taking issue with women who are truly high risk and who seek an OB's care.
I will leave you once again with this fabulous quotation:
"Midwives see birth as a miracle, and only intervene if there's trouble. Obstetricians see birth as trouble, and if they don't intervene, it's a miracle." Gentle Birth Choices.
Aug 30th edit: I have edited portions of this post as a result of recent on-going discussions/information.
Katie's comment on my OB/Midwifery post got me thinking. I, too, can say an OB saved my life. Problem is, it was the OB who put me in danger in the first place.
First and foremost, I must say that OBs do have their place. They do save lives. Often, though, they create emergencies or make situations appear as though they are emergencies when they are not. Midwives are trained to calmly assess. OBs are trained to provide medical interventions to correct the problem or the perceived problem. Often times, there are circumstances that doctors consider high risk whereas a midwife does not. This isn't because midwives are blind, but rather because midwives are trained to recognize and treat challenges very early. They want to keep you in their care and the only way to do that is to keep you low risk. OBs typically don't have that focus on prevention because there's the idea that they can treat whatever comes along. Granted, there are situations where OBs can provide care that a midwife cannot. I'm not denying that. If a situation like that occurs, a midwife is trained to recognize it quickly so that the mother can either transfer to an OB's care or can be taken to the hospital. Midwifery is not opposed to obstetrics. They can actually work hand-in-hand if need be.
The Midwifery model of care includes preventing challenges (aka "complications"). They have diet guidelines to keep you healthy. They provide tests to check for problems (although these are typically far less invasive and far less often than the tests required with an OB). That way, they can help you come up with a treatment or, if necessary, refer you to an OB if one can better complete your care. That, however, seems to be fairly rare and in those cases, you may be able to continue seeing the midwives for some or all of your prenatal care. Midwives typically have access to standard medical treatments (medications, labs, etc), but many are also extensively informed on more natural alternatives which have been used and proven for centuries. You won't be denied a necessary prescription drug, but she may recommend either an alternative or a natural treatment that compliments the prescription. Although, typically, with midwifery, the final decision is yours.
The Obstetric model of care is that anything can be treated. You will be tested repeatedly during your pregnancy. Although, there is very little preventative medicine. If the problem continues, you may be given a prescription. If it persists, you may be given a number of different prescriptions and most likely more tests. If those don't help, there's bedrest. If that doesn't help, there's always induction. If that fails, there's always a c-section for mom. If it's too soon, well, there's the NICU for the baby.
For those women who truly have a higher risk (and the OB model of care considers many patients to be "High risk" even when a midwife might not consider them so), OBs are fabulous. Please don't think I'm taking issue with women who are truly high risk and who seek an OB's care.
I will leave you once again with this fabulous quotation:
"Midwives see birth as a miracle, and only intervene if there's trouble. Obstetricians see birth as trouble, and if they don't intervene, it's a miracle." Gentle Birth Choices.
Aug 30th edit: I have edited portions of this post as a result of recent on-going discussions/information.
Friday, August 24, 2007
My google hall of fame
I have the first-ever inductee into my google hall of fame.
Someone actually found their way to my site by searching for
how going pee inside a spaceship
Someone actually found their way to my site by searching for
how going pee inside a spaceship
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Cut me baby, one more time.
Pardon me while I rant.
Pregnancy is generally NOT a medical event. It is a normal natural state. Giselle featured a fabulous quotation a while back.
"Midwives see birth as a miracle, and only intervene if there's trouble. Obstetricians see birth as trouble, and if they don't intervene, it's a miracle." Gentle Birth Choices.
That's it exactly.
I just don't understand why more people don't consider midwives as their first route when pregnant. Why do we automatically turn to OBs? Obstetrics is a science. It is very useful if a problem develops. Midwifery, however, can PREVENT many of those problems. Studies have shown that planned hombirths with a midwife are safer than hospital births.
"Midwife" literally means "With woman."
I found this definition of "Obstetrics" to be very interesting (italics are mine):
obstetrics
1819, from obstetric (adj.), 1742, from Mod.L. obstetricus "pertaining to a midwife," from obstetrix (gen. obstetricis) "midwife," lit. "one who stands opposite (the woman giving birth)," from obstare "stand opposite to" (see obstacle).
I've been particularly disheartened with all things baby-related lately. I want to change the world. I want to help make this a gentler, safer, easier place to live. That's quite literally my job. I don't do this because I think I'm right. I do it because I've read the research. I have the education. I see the evidence every day. Yet there are those who, for whatever reason, won't ask for help or accept it. I mourn for them, not because they're not doing what I think is right, but because I know they could have a different experience.
I surround myself with like-minded people, so I've been privileged by the fact that many of my friends have used midwives and planned homebirths. Still, I see so many people having OB-attended hospital births that range from sub-par to horribly traumatic and I just have to wonder why. Every single woman that I have known who had planned a hospital birth in the past 6 months has had a c-section. All have been instigated by hospital interventions. Why? Why do we let this continue? Why do we as mothers make the choice to put ourselves and our babies in danger by birthing with an OB in a hospital?
We don't realize the consequences of surgical birth. When a doctor induces a mom at 38 weeks, he doesn't tell her that there's a 50% chance she'll wind up with a c-section. He rarely (if ever) tells her that full-term is 37-42 weeks. I've heard horror stories of doctors threatening mothers if they go to their due date (40 weeks) much less beyond it. I've known mothers whose OBs threatened to abandon them if they didn't agree to an induction no later than their due date.
Mothers often see c-sections as just another choice. Why? Because doctors often portray it as such.
How many OBs truly review the risks of surgical birth beforehand? How many women know that a c-section increases their risk of future stillbirths? How many are told that a primary c-section is more likely to kill that child? How many are told that a c-section makes fertility problems more likely? How many are told of the possibility of future physical ailments for the mom as a result? How many are told that mothers who delver via c-section are more likely to suffer cardiac arrest and hysterectomies (among other complications)? How many women are told that babies born via c-section are less likely to be able to breastfeed and are more likely to have hearing and breathing problems? How many are told that women who have c-sections are more than THREE TIMES more likely to DIE as a direct result? "Unnecessary cesarean delivery constitutes a threat to the future health of mothers and babies who undergo major surgery..." You can read a brief overview of the major risks here. Another list of risks can be found at this Mayo Clinic page.
Why don't we choose midwives from the start? Even aside from c-sections, there are greater risks and greater restrictions when we birth in a hospital setting. Why must so many people have a negative hospital experience before they seek out something different? It doesn't have to be that way. We don't have to force ourselves to suffer. Why won't more women take that stand? In this culture, we're willing to assert our right to flavorful junk food, but we're not willing to insist on a safer setting for ourselves and our babies. Why?
Pregnancy is generally NOT a medical event. It is a normal natural state. Giselle featured a fabulous quotation a while back.
"Midwives see birth as a miracle, and only intervene if there's trouble. Obstetricians see birth as trouble, and if they don't intervene, it's a miracle." Gentle Birth Choices.
That's it exactly.
I just don't understand why more people don't consider midwives as their first route when pregnant. Why do we automatically turn to OBs? Obstetrics is a science. It is very useful if a problem develops. Midwifery, however, can PREVENT many of those problems. Studies have shown that planned hombirths with a midwife are safer than hospital births.
"Midwife" literally means "With woman."
I found this definition of "Obstetrics" to be very interesting (italics are mine):
obstetrics
1819, from obstetric (adj.), 1742, from Mod.L. obstetricus "pertaining to a midwife," from obstetrix (gen. obstetricis) "midwife," lit. "one who stands opposite (the woman giving birth)," from obstare "stand opposite to" (see obstacle).
I've been particularly disheartened with all things baby-related lately. I want to change the world. I want to help make this a gentler, safer, easier place to live. That's quite literally my job. I don't do this because I think I'm right. I do it because I've read the research. I have the education. I see the evidence every day. Yet there are those who, for whatever reason, won't ask for help or accept it. I mourn for them, not because they're not doing what I think is right, but because I know they could have a different experience.
I surround myself with like-minded people, so I've been privileged by the fact that many of my friends have used midwives and planned homebirths. Still, I see so many people having OB-attended hospital births that range from sub-par to horribly traumatic and I just have to wonder why. Every single woman that I have known who had planned a hospital birth in the past 6 months has had a c-section. All have been instigated by hospital interventions. Why? Why do we let this continue? Why do we as mothers make the choice to put ourselves and our babies in danger by birthing with an OB in a hospital?
We don't realize the consequences of surgical birth. When a doctor induces a mom at 38 weeks, he doesn't tell her that there's a 50% chance she'll wind up with a c-section. He rarely (if ever) tells her that full-term is 37-42 weeks. I've heard horror stories of doctors threatening mothers if they go to their due date (40 weeks) much less beyond it. I've known mothers whose OBs threatened to abandon them if they didn't agree to an induction no later than their due date.
Mothers often see c-sections as just another choice. Why? Because doctors often portray it as such.
How many OBs truly review the risks of surgical birth beforehand? How many women know that a c-section increases their risk of future stillbirths? How many are told that a primary c-section is more likely to kill that child? How many are told that a c-section makes fertility problems more likely? How many are told of the possibility of future physical ailments for the mom as a result? How many are told that mothers who delver via c-section are more likely to suffer cardiac arrest and hysterectomies (among other complications)? How many women are told that babies born via c-section are less likely to be able to breastfeed and are more likely to have hearing and breathing problems? How many are told that women who have c-sections are more than THREE TIMES more likely to DIE as a direct result? "Unnecessary cesarean delivery constitutes a threat to the future health of mothers and babies who undergo major surgery..." You can read a brief overview of the major risks here. Another list of risks can be found at this Mayo Clinic page.
Why don't we choose midwives from the start? Even aside from c-sections, there are greater risks and greater restrictions when we birth in a hospital setting. Why must so many people have a negative hospital experience before they seek out something different? It doesn't have to be that way. We don't have to force ourselves to suffer. Why won't more women take that stand? In this culture, we're willing to assert our right to flavorful junk food, but we're not willing to insist on a safer setting for ourselves and our babies. Why?
The fun and adventure that is food shopping with children
Shopping with my three has ranged from exasperating to baffling to "Oh, dear L-rd, PLEASE have mercy on me."
This woman, however, has me beat.
This woman, however, has me beat.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
What should every child learn to do before turning 8?
I came across this article today and I'm intrigued.
44 Things Every Kid Should Do Before Turning 8 *
What would you add to the list?
*Please note that I do not endorse the magazine which featured this article. I find much of their information to be outdated, wrong and/or horribly misleading.
44 Things Every Kid Should Do Before Turning 8 *
What would you add to the list?
*Please note that I do not endorse the magazine which featured this article. I find much of their information to be outdated, wrong and/or horribly misleading.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Screw the Girl Scouts! Motherhood has better badges.
Through an older post at the Motherwear Breastfeeding Blog, I found these merit badges: Mama Merit Badges. I want some!
Here's a list of my very favorites:
Breastfeeding
Travel
Tantrum (I really just love the story of the kid who wants to catch a lizard and tape it to the wall)
Shopping (How about doing your monthly grocery shopping at super Wal-Mart with 3 in tow? OMG, I swear she's psychic...or maybe she reads my blog)
I have no clue where I would put those things, but I WANT THEM.
Here's a list of my very favorites:
Breastfeeding
Travel
Tantrum (I really just love the story of the kid who wants to catch a lizard and tape it to the wall)
Shopping (How about doing your monthly grocery shopping at super Wal-Mart with 3 in tow? OMG, I swear she's psychic...or maybe she reads my blog)
I have no clue where I would put those things, but I WANT THEM.
Monday, August 20, 2007
We're here. We're queer. Get used to it.
Okay, so um...yeah...I'm not gay. Although, hopefully, the homosexual community will forgive me for stealing their slogan for my own use.
I am, however, here. We all are.
Thus far, my coping mechanism has been to just not discuss anything of weight. Don't think too hard about the 10 year anniversary he blew off simply because he was in a bad mood. Don't ask him any questions for which I know full-well he won't have any answers. Stop expecting him to come home with flowers in an attempt to make up for the anniversary debacle (although I still haven't mastered this one). Overall, I just try not to think about it.
And I suspect he's been poking his head in here which I wasn't expecting. I figured he had lost the link a long time ago. Note to the world, but especially my dh, If you say, "Well, the other day you said, 'XYZ'," then make absolutely sure that I actually SAID, "XYZ" and that I didn't just post about it on my blog in a message where I detailed my plans to leave you.
Whoops. That's a bit more bitter than I had planned. Sorry.
Still, if he actually read that post about leaving and I still don't have flowers or kind words or any sign that he actually wants us to stay, it's kind of baffling and painful.
But, I'm not dealing with that shit. I'm doing everything I can to keep my ass here at least until I can meet with the therapist again. That means not thinking about this stuff too deeply and not over-analyzing anything. I will not wallow. I will not go fucking nuts...at least not in the immediate future.
I will, however, go in the other room and watch the Colbert Report. I will take an Ambien so I can quiet down the demons (because ticked off is one thing, but ticked off and grumpy from lack of sleep is a whole 'nother beast). And at least for the next few days, I will post stupid random shit that doesn't dig too deep into my head. So if you want a break from the drama, you're in luck. I will be locking the drama llama up in my basement where I will occasionally pop in and beat the shit out of it with a wooden club when the need arises.
But for now, I'm getting more lemonade and watching some TV.
I am, however, here. We all are.
Thus far, my coping mechanism has been to just not discuss anything of weight. Don't think too hard about the 10 year anniversary he blew off simply because he was in a bad mood. Don't ask him any questions for which I know full-well he won't have any answers. Stop expecting him to come home with flowers in an attempt to make up for the anniversary debacle (although I still haven't mastered this one). Overall, I just try not to think about it.
And I suspect he's been poking his head in here which I wasn't expecting. I figured he had lost the link a long time ago. Note to the world, but especially my dh, If you say, "Well, the other day you said, 'XYZ'," then make absolutely sure that I actually SAID, "XYZ" and that I didn't just post about it on my blog in a message where I detailed my plans to leave you.
Whoops. That's a bit more bitter than I had planned. Sorry.
Still, if he actually read that post about leaving and I still don't have flowers or kind words or any sign that he actually wants us to stay, it's kind of baffling and painful.
But, I'm not dealing with that shit. I'm doing everything I can to keep my ass here at least until I can meet with the therapist again. That means not thinking about this stuff too deeply and not over-analyzing anything. I will not wallow. I will not go fucking nuts...at least not in the immediate future.
I will, however, go in the other room and watch the Colbert Report. I will take an Ambien so I can quiet down the demons (because ticked off is one thing, but ticked off and grumpy from lack of sleep is a whole 'nother beast). And at least for the next few days, I will post stupid random shit that doesn't dig too deep into my head. So if you want a break from the drama, you're in luck. I will be locking the drama llama up in my basement where I will occasionally pop in and beat the shit out of it with a wooden club when the need arises.
But for now, I'm getting more lemonade and watching some TV.
Pinwheels for peace
We're planning on making these next month: Pinwheels for Peace
Here's how they explain it:
Today’s students are bombarded with television images, video games, and magazine articles/newspapers that give importance to conflict and war. Violence has become commonplace and accepted as part of our society and, for some students, it is a way of life. It is our hope that through the Pinwheels for Peace project, we can help the students make a public visual statement about their feelings about war/ peace/ tolerance/ cooperation/ harmony/ unity and, in some way, maybe, awaken the public and let them know what the next generation is thinking.
This is not political. Peace doesn’t necessarily have to be associated with the conflict of war, it can be related to violence/intolerance in our daily lives, to peace of mind. To each of us, peace can take on a different meaning, but, in the end, it all comes down to a simple definition: a state of calm and serenity, with no anxiety, the absence of violence, freedom from conflict or disagreement among people or groups of people.
--the Project
There are patterns on the website and everything. I think we'll try to recycle some pretty paper of some sort and cover our front yard in pinwheels.
Here's how they explain it:
Today’s students are bombarded with television images, video games, and magazine articles/newspapers that give importance to conflict and war. Violence has become commonplace and accepted as part of our society and, for some students, it is a way of life. It is our hope that through the Pinwheels for Peace project, we can help the students make a public visual statement about their feelings about war/ peace/ tolerance/ cooperation/ harmony/ unity and, in some way, maybe, awaken the public and let them know what the next generation is thinking.
This is not political. Peace doesn’t necessarily have to be associated with the conflict of war, it can be related to violence/intolerance in our daily lives, to peace of mind. To each of us, peace can take on a different meaning, but, in the end, it all comes down to a simple definition: a state of calm and serenity, with no anxiety, the absence of violence, freedom from conflict or disagreement among people or groups of people.
--the Project
There are patterns on the website and everything. I think we'll try to recycle some pretty paper of some sort and cover our front yard in pinwheels.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
and now that I am leaving,
now I know that I did something wrong 'cause I missed you.
I'm still here.
After I posted last, I printed directions to where I'd be going and wrote down the phone numbers of the people there.
Went about my usual morning stuff figuring I'd decide later about leaving.
Kept The Boy up from his nap for two extra hours while I tried to decide (wanted him to nap in the car if I decided to go). Eventually opted to put him down, but I packed a bag for us all after I did.
I decided to stay. I can't explain it. I should have gone, but I just can't stop clinging to the idea that something will change. I'm an idiot because dh has shown time and time again that it's not something he plans on doing. Still, I hope.
Sometimes it seems like he wants to. Most of the time, though, it seems like he just wants to ignore it and keep going with blinders on.
I was leaning towards leaving this morning when the girls started telling me about all the husbands they were going to have (Girl2 says 200,000). I got annoyed with them and said, "No, you have one husband. You get married once and you stay that way." As soon as I heard myself say that, I knew I wanted to stay and try to work this out.
Dh has the next two days off. I'm delusional. I keep thinking that in all that time, surely he will say/do something different. Logically I know he won't, but I can't give up on him.
I'm here and I'm feeling like I'm insane. I want to leave so badly, but then I can't do it. I go back and forth and I can't make up my mind. I want to stay. I want to work this out, but it feels like I'm the only one. Dh is willing to put in a bit of effort, but not much--certainly not enough.
So I'm here for now, but if this keeps up, I'm either going insane or I'm going away.
After I posted last, I printed directions to where I'd be going and wrote down the phone numbers of the people there.
Went about my usual morning stuff figuring I'd decide later about leaving.
Kept The Boy up from his nap for two extra hours while I tried to decide (wanted him to nap in the car if I decided to go). Eventually opted to put him down, but I packed a bag for us all after I did.
I decided to stay. I can't explain it. I should have gone, but I just can't stop clinging to the idea that something will change. I'm an idiot because dh has shown time and time again that it's not something he plans on doing. Still, I hope.
Sometimes it seems like he wants to. Most of the time, though, it seems like he just wants to ignore it and keep going with blinders on.
I was leaning towards leaving this morning when the girls started telling me about all the husbands they were going to have (Girl2 says 200,000). I got annoyed with them and said, "No, you have one husband. You get married once and you stay that way." As soon as I heard myself say that, I knew I wanted to stay and try to work this out.
Dh has the next two days off. I'm delusional. I keep thinking that in all that time, surely he will say/do something different. Logically I know he won't, but I can't give up on him.
I'm here and I'm feeling like I'm insane. I want to leave so badly, but then I can't do it. I go back and forth and I can't make up my mind. I want to stay. I want to work this out, but it feels like I'm the only one. Dh is willing to put in a bit of effort, but not much--certainly not enough.
So I'm here for now, but if this keeps up, I'm either going insane or I'm going away.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Random link Wednesday
There's oh so much I should write, but instead of tackling any of that, I'll leave you with this:
I Do Dog Tricks
Type in a trick (stand, speak, sit, etc) and he'll do it. Make sure you try, "Kiss." That's my favorite.
I Do Dog Tricks
Type in a trick (stand, speak, sit, etc) and he'll do it. Make sure you try, "Kiss." That's my favorite.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Therapy, updates, babies and prayers
September 17, 2007 edit:
Since people have been finding their way here by googling, "Can Jews have c-sections," I figured I'd clear that up. Yes, we can. No, it is not the ideal. Please note that I am not a rabbi. Please consult your rabbi for specific information regarding halachah.
Childcare showed up late. They got here right around the time we should have been arriving at the doctor's office. Then we found Map Quest's directions were stupid--as usual. So it took longer than it should plus we passed the office and had to turn around. We got there late.
Luckily, the therapist was running late, so she never even noticed our tardiness. Whew.
The appointment went well. She wants to see us individually before she sees us together again. With the kids and dh's work schedule, that's going to prove to be difficult, but we're gonna try to work it out.
In other news, a friend is in labor. All was not going as planned in her homebirth. Last I heard, there was some hope, but it looked like she was going to wind up with a repeat c-section. I cried when I heard that. I wanted so much better for her. She has done everything right. She deserves better.
When I talked to her, I tried to get across that her body may have reasons that we don't understand. I want her to know that a healthy baby is NOT all that matters. Pregnancy and birth matter. She did everything she needed to do during this pregnancy. She cared. She was an active participant. That is important. This time, she went into labor on her own. She got the chance to labor in the birth pool with her older son. That is important. How this child comes into the world is important. She has done everything she could to provide a calm safe entrance for this child. I'm glad hospitals are available for medically indicated c-sections. I just wish hers wasn't one of them. I know that's very much not what she wanted.
I'm wracking my brain to try to find a way to make this easier on her. I can't take away the emotions she's going to feel, but hopefully, I can use my experiences to help her.
I'm still holding on to the last shred of hope that maybe, somehow, she can still have this baby safely at home. Yet at the same time, I'm hoping and praying for the strength and healing she'll need if that doesn't happen.
She's not Jewish, but I am, so I said this prayer for her:
Mi sheberakh avoteinu mekor habrakha l’imoteinu
May the Source of strength
Who blessed the ones before us
Help us find the courage
To make our lives a blessing,
And let us say: Amen.
Mi sheberakh imoteinu mekor habrakha l’avoteinu
Bless those in need of healing With refuah shleima:
The renewal of body,
The renewal of spirit,
And let us say: Amen
Since people have been finding their way here by googling, "Can Jews have c-sections," I figured I'd clear that up. Yes, we can. No, it is not the ideal. Please note that I am not a rabbi. Please consult your rabbi for specific information regarding halachah.
Childcare showed up late. They got here right around the time we should have been arriving at the doctor's office. Then we found Map Quest's directions were stupid--as usual. So it took longer than it should plus we passed the office and had to turn around. We got there late.
Luckily, the therapist was running late, so she never even noticed our tardiness. Whew.
The appointment went well. She wants to see us individually before she sees us together again. With the kids and dh's work schedule, that's going to prove to be difficult, but we're gonna try to work it out.
In other news, a friend is in labor. All was not going as planned in her homebirth. Last I heard, there was some hope, but it looked like she was going to wind up with a repeat c-section. I cried when I heard that. I wanted so much better for her. She has done everything right. She deserves better.
When I talked to her, I tried to get across that her body may have reasons that we don't understand. I want her to know that a healthy baby is NOT all that matters. Pregnancy and birth matter. She did everything she needed to do during this pregnancy. She cared. She was an active participant. That is important. This time, she went into labor on her own. She got the chance to labor in the birth pool with her older son. That is important. How this child comes into the world is important. She has done everything she could to provide a calm safe entrance for this child. I'm glad hospitals are available for medically indicated c-sections. I just wish hers wasn't one of them. I know that's very much not what she wanted.
I'm wracking my brain to try to find a way to make this easier on her. I can't take away the emotions she's going to feel, but hopefully, I can use my experiences to help her.
I'm still holding on to the last shred of hope that maybe, somehow, she can still have this baby safely at home. Yet at the same time, I'm hoping and praying for the strength and healing she'll need if that doesn't happen.
She's not Jewish, but I am, so I said this prayer for her:
Mi sheberakh avoteinu mekor habrakha l’imoteinu
May the Source of strength
Who blessed the ones before us
Help us find the courage
To make our lives a blessing,
And let us say: Amen.
Mi sheberakh imoteinu mekor habrakha l’avoteinu
Bless those in need of healing With refuah shleima:
The renewal of body,
The renewal of spirit,
And let us say: Amen
AHHHHHHHH
We needed to leave for our appointment 5 minutes ago. The friend who is supposed to watch the kids is nowhere to be found.
Oh shit!
Oh shit!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
An update on the chaos that is my life in under 25 words
Awful night. Better day. Therapist appointment tomorrow. Finally found someone to watch the kids. Will update tomorrow.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Give me a freaking break!
I usually don't post on Saturday as it's Shabbat, but damn it, I need to vent.
I called Military Onesource. I played phone tag with a therapist for 2 days until I finally got in touch with her. I got an appointment for Monday (dh's day off). But now I can't freaking find anyone to watch the kids so we can go.
Now WTF do I do?
I called Military Onesource. I played phone tag with a therapist for 2 days until I finally got in touch with her. I got an appointment for Monday (dh's day off). But now I can't freaking find anyone to watch the kids so we can go.
Now WTF do I do?
Friday, August 10, 2007
I seem to have misplaced my dignity, but I know exactly where the poop is.
Prepare yourself. This entry deals with potty-training. If you don't have kids, this may seem like one of the strangest things in the world. There is no way to accurately explain how much your conversations change once you have kids. Elimination (whether it be in diapers, potty chairs, toilets, clothing or all over the floor) regularly becomes a topic and it usually doesn't even gross you out in the least. Ah, the joys of parenthood.
The Boy pooped on the potty today. He later tried to pee on the potty, but it was still in the sink after being washed out from the aforementioned pooping. He grabbed himself and walked quickly in the direction of where the potty should have been, but was not. He left a line of small puddles in his wake. But hey, I'll take what I can get (and I'll mop up what I can't).
His sisters are being wonderful about this. Girl2 informed me, "I'm excited to potty train him all by myself." They both sat there and read him books to keep him entertained on the potty. After he pooped, the sisters cheered for him. Girl2 gave him hand sanitizer (my son is strange. He LOVES hand sanitizer. He even created his own sign for it.). We all danced around the house together in a conga line singing, "You pooped on the potty," which was met with grins, laughter and giggles from sir poops-a-lot. When they cheered for him, he stomped and clapped too. Having twins is harrowing when you're trying to potty-train two toddlers at once (by yourself when your husband is deployed), but it's so worth it when they grow into not one, but TWO bigger kids who actually want to help and do so quite well.
I often say, "Your dignity is delivered with the placenta." I also think there's teeny tiny print somewhere in those adoption forms that also notes that your dignity will quietly slip away in the night. I'm often heard singing, "Where oh where has my dignity gone? Oh where oh where can it be?" I can tell ya one thing, it's nowhere near my house today. Even if I had any shred left, I'd gladly trade it if it meant no more diapers to buy/wash.
The Boy pooped on the potty today. He later tried to pee on the potty, but it was still in the sink after being washed out from the aforementioned pooping. He grabbed himself and walked quickly in the direction of where the potty should have been, but was not. He left a line of small puddles in his wake. But hey, I'll take what I can get (and I'll mop up what I can't).
His sisters are being wonderful about this. Girl2 informed me, "I'm excited to potty train him all by myself." They both sat there and read him books to keep him entertained on the potty. After he pooped, the sisters cheered for him. Girl2 gave him hand sanitizer (my son is strange. He LOVES hand sanitizer. He even created his own sign for it.). We all danced around the house together in a conga line singing, "You pooped on the potty," which was met with grins, laughter and giggles from sir poops-a-lot. When they cheered for him, he stomped and clapped too. Having twins is harrowing when you're trying to potty-train two toddlers at once (by yourself when your husband is deployed), but it's so worth it when they grow into not one, but TWO bigger kids who actually want to help and do so quite well.
I often say, "Your dignity is delivered with the placenta." I also think there's teeny tiny print somewhere in those adoption forms that also notes that your dignity will quietly slip away in the night. I'm often heard singing, "Where oh where has my dignity gone? Oh where oh where can it be?" I can tell ya one thing, it's nowhere near my house today. Even if I had any shred left, I'd gladly trade it if it meant no more diapers to buy/wash.
I'm lame, but this is my idea of quality time.
The Parents Bloggers Network wants to hear about how families play together. I got to thinking about it and realized I'm pretty lame and this might make me seem kinda lazy, but hey, here's what we do.
Around 4 or so in the afternoon, I tend to just get exhausted and exasperated, so I round up the wee ones and head into my room. I lay down and they play on my bed. They ride on my back and I'll shake back and forth usually pretending to be a car. The kids even yell, "Go go, Gadget car." No, they've never seen Inspector Gadget. I'm just a dork.
The other day, The Boy even sat on my back and yelled, "Go go!" The big kids love it. It's their chance to play, but they also see that their brother is learning from them. He yelled that because he heard them do it. They're also taking that time to teach him to jump, pretend he's a train and be all around obnoxious, but very cute while doing it. He adores his sisters and just loves the attention. They love the thought of having a potential partner in crime. I can just imagine what they must whisper to each other in the night, "Dude, we managed to destroy 80-year-old heirloom book cases, shove stuff up our noses and eat through DVD boxes when there were only two of us. Imagine the havoc we can wreak with three."
They also like it 'cause it's time with me. I don't even have to do anything other than talk to them, but they lap it up. They just love being on my bed (or in a train, or a space ship or whatever my bed is to them that day), bouncing around and chatting with me.
When they were tiny, my very favorite part of the day was the morning. Let me tell you, I'm a night person and I have insomnia, so you know mornings had to be extraordinary if they were my favorite. Back then, The Boy slept with us and when he woke up, I'd sign, "Milk," and he'd get super excited. I LOVED his huge grins with the chubby legs and arms flailing. So we'd call the big kids in while the baby nursed. They'd climb in bed with us. We didn't know an exact date, but we knew dh would be leaving before too long, so we really clung to that time. We never did anything other than hang out, but I loved it. It was the whole family together.
When dh deployed, our mornings became even more important to me. Even if I was utterly exhausted because I didn't get any freaking sleep, when I saw the kids cuddling together and heard them giggling, it made me feel a bit better. I'm not saying laughter is the equivalent of a Mocha Frappacino with an extra shot of espresso, but it helps.
The Boy moved out of our bed before his first birthday, though (his choice, not mine). So now the only time I get to cuddle with all the kids is in bed in the late afternoon.
I don't have to plan anything. I don't have to stock up on supplies. I don't have to do cartwheels to keep them entertained. We're all just there together and I like it that way.
Now the disclaimer:
This post is brought to you in conjunction with Parent Bloggers Network & EA’s Wii-Boogie, a family gaming experience. Shake it. Sing it. Create it.
Around 4 or so in the afternoon, I tend to just get exhausted and exasperated, so I round up the wee ones and head into my room. I lay down and they play on my bed. They ride on my back and I'll shake back and forth usually pretending to be a car. The kids even yell, "Go go, Gadget car." No, they've never seen Inspector Gadget. I'm just a dork.
The other day, The Boy even sat on my back and yelled, "Go go!" The big kids love it. It's their chance to play, but they also see that their brother is learning from them. He yelled that because he heard them do it. They're also taking that time to teach him to jump, pretend he's a train and be all around obnoxious, but very cute while doing it. He adores his sisters and just loves the attention. They love the thought of having a potential partner in crime. I can just imagine what they must whisper to each other in the night, "Dude, we managed to destroy 80-year-old heirloom book cases, shove stuff up our noses and eat through DVD boxes when there were only two of us. Imagine the havoc we can wreak with three."
They also like it 'cause it's time with me. I don't even have to do anything other than talk to them, but they lap it up. They just love being on my bed (or in a train, or a space ship or whatever my bed is to them that day), bouncing around and chatting with me.
When they were tiny, my very favorite part of the day was the morning. Let me tell you, I'm a night person and I have insomnia, so you know mornings had to be extraordinary if they were my favorite. Back then, The Boy slept with us and when he woke up, I'd sign, "Milk," and he'd get super excited. I LOVED his huge grins with the chubby legs and arms flailing. So we'd call the big kids in while the baby nursed. They'd climb in bed with us. We didn't know an exact date, but we knew dh would be leaving before too long, so we really clung to that time. We never did anything other than hang out, but I loved it. It was the whole family together.
When dh deployed, our mornings became even more important to me. Even if I was utterly exhausted because I didn't get any freaking sleep, when I saw the kids cuddling together and heard them giggling, it made me feel a bit better. I'm not saying laughter is the equivalent of a Mocha Frappacino with an extra shot of espresso, but it helps.
The Boy moved out of our bed before his first birthday, though (his choice, not mine). So now the only time I get to cuddle with all the kids is in bed in the late afternoon.
I don't have to plan anything. I don't have to stock up on supplies. I don't have to do cartwheels to keep them entertained. We're all just there together and I like it that way.
Now the disclaimer:
This post is brought to you in conjunction with Parent Bloggers Network & EA’s Wii-Boogie, a family gaming experience. Shake it. Sing it. Create it.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Another benefit of breastfeeding:
Breastmilk contains sanity
I've been feeling kind of numb. I haven't left the house. Haven't been to the gym in over a week (remember, I was there every day, 6 days a week and I usually go nuts if I have to miss even one day). I haven't felt much like dealing with the kids. I haven't done any school work with them (although, in an attempt to shut the bigger ones up, I gave them some work sheets to do by themselves yesterday).
So, today, I am especially grateful to be a breastfeeding mom.
When I got The Boy this morning, he immediately signed, "Milk please." I sighed because I really didn't want to. Reluctantly, I sat down on the couch, turned on the t.v. and nursed the baby. I was initially ignoring him and just flipping through news channels (I don't like Larry King in the evening hours. Why the hell does Headline News think I want to see him and his outdated guests in the morning? Dude, your channel is called "Headline NEWS." News is right there in the title. Quit showing all these idiotic commentators and their ridiculous shows and just give me my freaking news).
Then, I happened to get a whiff of the top of the baby's head. Luckily, he had a bath last night, so instead of that day-old spaghetti smell, it was that sweet baby scent. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. I noticed it calmed me down and made me feel better.
I turned off the t.v. and continued to sit there and sniff my son. For some reason, he wanted to nurse for a while and he asked to switch sides a few times. Normally, I would have been annoyed, but today, I didn't mind at all.
While nursing him, I noticed his sisters were playing pretend with their stuffed animals. So I started asking questions and talking to them about their pretend ice cream party with the 4-year-old panda bear and the 19-year-old giraffe who is training to be an astronaut.
When The Boy was done, he got down off the couch, flashed me a big grin and walked away.
A little while later, I said the Sheheheyanu quietly to myself so as to thank G-d for giving me the gift of breastfeeding and for allowing me to recognize the quiet beauty and serenity in the moment, in the act, in the children, and in myself.
So, today, I am especially grateful to be a breastfeeding mom.
When I got The Boy this morning, he immediately signed, "Milk please." I sighed because I really didn't want to. Reluctantly, I sat down on the couch, turned on the t.v. and nursed the baby. I was initially ignoring him and just flipping through news channels (I don't like Larry King in the evening hours. Why the hell does Headline News think I want to see him and his outdated guests in the morning? Dude, your channel is called "Headline NEWS." News is right there in the title. Quit showing all these idiotic commentators and their ridiculous shows and just give me my freaking news).
Then, I happened to get a whiff of the top of the baby's head. Luckily, he had a bath last night, so instead of that day-old spaghetti smell, it was that sweet baby scent. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. I noticed it calmed me down and made me feel better.
I turned off the t.v. and continued to sit there and sniff my son. For some reason, he wanted to nurse for a while and he asked to switch sides a few times. Normally, I would have been annoyed, but today, I didn't mind at all.
While nursing him, I noticed his sisters were playing pretend with their stuffed animals. So I started asking questions and talking to them about their pretend ice cream party with the 4-year-old panda bear and the 19-year-old giraffe who is training to be an astronaut.
When The Boy was done, he got down off the couch, flashed me a big grin and walked away.
A little while later, I said the Sheheheyanu quietly to myself so as to thank G-d for giving me the gift of breastfeeding and for allowing me to recognize the quiet beauty and serenity in the moment, in the act, in the children, and in myself.
G-d bless Kristin Henderson
She's the inspiration behind the title of this place, she's a military spouse, she's a fabulous writer and she has a wealth of resources for veterans and their families.
If any of my readers are military family members who need help, if you know someone who does or if you want to find a way to help, please go here: Take Action, Find Resources. Also, in the back of her book, While They're At War, you will find a comprehensive list of resources. By the time you get there, you will have read a fabulous book too.
If any of my readers are military family members who need help, if you know someone who does or if you want to find a way to help, please go here: Take Action, Find Resources. Also, in the back of her book, While They're At War, you will find a comprehensive list of resources. By the time you get there, you will have read a fabulous book too.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Lack of sleep, old writings, familiar problems and Military OneSource
I got 30 minutes of sleep last night. Same shit with dh. I'm recognizing more and more signs of PTSD. I tossed and turned as everything ran through my head. Finally, after 3 hours, I decided to get up and just write it all down.
Last year, the therapist suggested I journal about the situation. I mentioned that I blogged about it, but she suggested I journal it privately with no intentions of anyone else reading it. I did just that and I remember that it was a bit of a release. So I thought maybe if I wrote down everything I was thinking/feeling last night, maybe I could finally let it go and get some freaking sleep. I wrote for 2 hours straight. I felt a bit better, but when I went back to bed, I still couldn't sleep.
I remembered where I kept last year's journal, so I searched for that and did my writing in there. I was surprised to find only one entry from last summer. Although, in there, I found something that is very very true even now, a year later.
I miss him...I miss knowing what to expect. I miss being able to say with certainty, "He would never do that."
Yeah, it's the same thing now.
Lots of things raging through my head and heart right now.
One thing I kept writing, thinking and worrying about is the fact that last year, when I asked him to get help, he was willing to cut us off rather than do that. He chose his silence over his family. I still don't understand. He has no problem with therapists. He's not the type who fights tooth and nail to avoid them. I never in a million years dreamed he'd be willing to go without contact with us rather than just talk to someone.
So now what? It's obvious this marriage isn't going to last without outside help and I so desperately want this to last. I love my husband like crazy. I know he's still in there somewhere. But the last time I asked him to get help, he opted to shut us out rather than do that.
I called Military Onesource. They set me up with my therapist during this whole fiasco last year. Since dh is no longer active duty, though, I didn't know if they could help him. They said they can for 6 months after separation (he's still in that window), but he would need to call. He won't do that. So I asked about couple's counseling. That I could set up and so I did.
We shall see where we go from here.
It's really interesting that the signs are getting worse a year later--9 months since he came home and 3 months since he separated from the military. Don't ever let anyone tell you the "war" ends with the homecoming. It just means you have whole new battles and your home becomes your combat zone.
When he was deployed, he could look forward to coming home. Now where is he supposed to feel safe?
Last year, the therapist suggested I journal about the situation. I mentioned that I blogged about it, but she suggested I journal it privately with no intentions of anyone else reading it. I did just that and I remember that it was a bit of a release. So I thought maybe if I wrote down everything I was thinking/feeling last night, maybe I could finally let it go and get some freaking sleep. I wrote for 2 hours straight. I felt a bit better, but when I went back to bed, I still couldn't sleep.
I remembered where I kept last year's journal, so I searched for that and did my writing in there. I was surprised to find only one entry from last summer. Although, in there, I found something that is very very true even now, a year later.
I miss him...I miss knowing what to expect. I miss being able to say with certainty, "He would never do that."
Yeah, it's the same thing now.
Lots of things raging through my head and heart right now.
One thing I kept writing, thinking and worrying about is the fact that last year, when I asked him to get help, he was willing to cut us off rather than do that. He chose his silence over his family. I still don't understand. He has no problem with therapists. He's not the type who fights tooth and nail to avoid them. I never in a million years dreamed he'd be willing to go without contact with us rather than just talk to someone.
So now what? It's obvious this marriage isn't going to last without outside help and I so desperately want this to last. I love my husband like crazy. I know he's still in there somewhere. But the last time I asked him to get help, he opted to shut us out rather than do that.
I called Military Onesource. They set me up with my therapist during this whole fiasco last year. Since dh is no longer active duty, though, I didn't know if they could help him. They said they can for 6 months after separation (he's still in that window), but he would need to call. He won't do that. So I asked about couple's counseling. That I could set up and so I did.
We shall see where we go from here.
It's really interesting that the signs are getting worse a year later--9 months since he came home and 3 months since he separated from the military. Don't ever let anyone tell you the "war" ends with the homecoming. It just means you have whole new battles and your home becomes your combat zone.
When he was deployed, he could look forward to coming home. Now where is he supposed to feel safe?
Monday, August 06, 2007
It's a Boy
and it sucks to be him and everyone around him.
Satan Spawn is here. It's a boy. I should be relieved. The pedophile dad only likes little girls.
But while it seems this child won't be molested or raped by his father, I'm afraid it will be just another case of history repeating.
The dad was abused by his father who was abused by his father... and so on and so forth.
So yeah, now there's a whole new little person to fuck up and send out into the world where he can unleash the destructive forces handed down to him by his great grandfathers.
Yes, I know there's a chance he'll be able to overcome it, but, looking at the grand scheme of things, I know it's not bloody likely.
Being the optimist I am at heart, I'll continue to hold out hope that he can overcome his upbrining, but until I see some proof that it might actually happen, I'm gonna continue to rage inside, resist the urge to throw up and cry in bed at night.
But while it seems this child won't be molested or raped by his father, I'm afraid it will be just another case of history repeating.
The dad was abused by his father who was abused by his father... and so on and so forth.
So yeah, now there's a whole new little person to fuck up and send out into the world where he can unleash the destructive forces handed down to him by his great grandfathers.
Yes, I know there's a chance he'll be able to overcome it, but, looking at the grand scheme of things, I know it's not bloody likely.
Being the optimist I am at heart, I'll continue to hold out hope that he can overcome his upbrining, but until I see some proof that it might actually happen, I'm gonna continue to rage inside, resist the urge to throw up and cry in bed at night.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Thank G-d for the sane ones.
We have established that my family is nucking futs. This is not news. I've been aware of this fact pretty much from birth.
Sometimes, all the dysfunction sucks the energy right out of you. You just want to bury your head in the pillow and scream or better yet, shake the screw-up in question and scream directly at them...loudly....with speech full of expletives.
So, thank G-d, every once in a while, you get a little beacon of hope. On occasion, you're reminded that there are family members who posses both sanity and common freaking sense.
It gives you hope for humanity. Maybe tikkun olam is possible. Not everyone is cruel and idiotic. Some people are genuinely nice and smart and sweet. And you know what? They actually give a damn about others and live their lives to reflect that.
I was reminded today that I have someone like that. That helps pull me out of the funk that is my family drama and say, "Hey, we're not all certifiably insane." That gives me hope. It also makes me think, "There must be a G-d and He must like me. We've got a fairly normal one. That's a miracle if ever I saw it."
I love my family. Even if I don't agree with the decisions, I try to be there for them to the best of my ability. Knowing that there's a drama-free zone, though, is a lovely thing. Knowing that someone came out of this primordial ooze that is our family as a genuinely good person gives me hope.
But my kid did it first (and in cookie form)
So, Kristen and Mom 101 think their kids are so cool with their pens, crayons, and dirty minds?
Well, ha! My kid can one-up them.
Not only does my kid paint phallic symbols, but she bakes them too.
And I have proof.
Top that!
Well, ha! My kid can one-up them.
Not only does my kid paint phallic symbols, but she bakes them too.
And I have proof.
Top that!
Friday, August 03, 2007
Parents say the darnest things
Today, The Boy insisted on taking a naked anatomically correct boy doll out with us. Of course, all of our anatomically correct dolls simply must be naked. It's an unwritten rule.
So The Boy carried his naked penis-laden doll in one hand and a cheese stick in the other.
It was at that point that I made this announcement:
"Honey, please don't rub cheese on the baby (pause) and please don't lick it off."
So The Boy carried his naked penis-laden doll in one hand and a cheese stick in the other.
It was at that point that I made this announcement:
"Honey, please don't rub cheese on the baby (pause) and please don't lick it off."
Bunnies, booze and sex
Kamrin left this wonderful comment:
"Bunnies are cute, but booze is better!"
Make sure we add, "Sex" to the list of things that inspire happiness.
Don't know if we're getting anywhere on the issue, but there was actually indoor sports being played in our room this morning. With 3 kids (including two who continue to get up loudly at the butt-crack of dawn), any action before 10 pm is a very rare occurrence.
Which is a shame 'cause it's one hell of a way to start your day. Plus it helps when dealing with the continuing lack of sleep. Once the kids are up at 2 or 4, even if they go back to sleep, I'm up for the day. I swear, I'm gonna stop taking Ambien and just give it to the freaking kids. It would probably work better that way.
But hey, I got no sleep, but I did get laid.
"Bunnies are cute, but booze is better!"
Make sure we add, "Sex" to the list of things that inspire happiness.
Don't know if we're getting anywhere on the issue, but there was actually indoor sports being played in our room this morning. With 3 kids (including two who continue to get up loudly at the butt-crack of dawn), any action before 10 pm is a very rare occurrence.
Which is a shame 'cause it's one hell of a way to start your day. Plus it helps when dealing with the continuing lack of sleep. Once the kids are up at 2 or 4, even if they go back to sleep, I'm up for the day. I swear, I'm gonna stop taking Ambien and just give it to the freaking kids. It would probably work better that way.
But hey, I got no sleep, but I did get laid.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Need a happy fix?
I can't venture into a liquor store with the kids, so this will have to do.
Look, bunnies!
Look, bunnies!
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Too pissed off and exhausted to think of a clever title.
This fucking sucks! I'm so fed up and so exhausted.
The big kids aren't sleeping well. They wake up for random reasons at insane hours (2 am on Sunday-Monday night, 4 am for the past 2 nights) and they're up for good by 6 at the latest. Once they're up the first time, I have a very difficult time falling back to sleep. Even when they do, I can't. I'm fucking exhausted.
Today was fucking nuts. I had way too much shit to do and bunches of stuff went wrong. The boy just went down for a nap 20 minutes ago. I need to get him up right about now 'cause we have got to go out. When left on his own lately, he's been napping for 4-5 hours I know he needs more sleep and he's not getting it. I have to keep cutting his naps short. Shit! We ALL fucking need more sleep and we're not getting it. I'm just so fucking tired of this shit.
I wanted to ask dh to call in yesterday, but I didn't 'cause I knew he wouldn't and honestly, I couldn't stand it if I specifically asked and he didn't even consider it. So I said something along the lines of, "I wish you could stay home." HE FUCKING IGNORED ME.
Yeah and the same shit continues. Nothing I say/do makes any difference. Lots more I want to say here, but I think he might still occasionally read this and I just don't want to get into some stuff.
I'm feeling horribly unattractive, unappreciated, over-extended, burnt out and just fucking exhausted.
I tried to figure out what it is that I need to feel better today. What I want is some damn attention. I want SOMEONE to acknowledge at least a portion of what I do. And no, I'm not fishing for compliments from you people. I want someone, but I also NEED dh to acknowledge me. I would damn near kill for flowers, a card, a sweet word or a stupid trinket--anything of the sort, but it doesn't happen. The only thing he has given me is Starbucks and that was once. While I appreciate it, that's not exactly what I'm looking for right now.
I feel like I'm getting depressed. I know part of it is that I haven't had enough sleep, but damn it, some of this shit has been going on for a long time. And I don't really fucking care about the reason right now. All I care about is that I'm sitting here crying and miserable.
AHHHHHHH. There's so much I want to write, but I'm already late picking up the girls. I haven't even woken The Boy up yet. I just want to go to bed. I'm seriously considering just getting a damn hotel room, taking an Ambien, and getting some glorious uninterrupted sleep. Problem is, when dh is off, I want to be with him. When he has to work, there's no fucking way he'll take any time off so I could do that. I've considered just taking off in the night and not coming back until later the next day. I kinda wonder, though, if he'd even notice or if he would just assume I was in one of the kids' rooms and head to work leaving the kids alone. I can't take that risk. And besides, honestly, I don't think I can do that to him. Sucks since I can't say the same of him towards me.
And now I'm off to run out the door to be late for yet another fucking thing today.
SON OF A BITCH!
The big kids aren't sleeping well. They wake up for random reasons at insane hours (2 am on Sunday-Monday night, 4 am for the past 2 nights) and they're up for good by 6 at the latest. Once they're up the first time, I have a very difficult time falling back to sleep. Even when they do, I can't. I'm fucking exhausted.
Today was fucking nuts. I had way too much shit to do and bunches of stuff went wrong. The boy just went down for a nap 20 minutes ago. I need to get him up right about now 'cause we have got to go out. When left on his own lately, he's been napping for 4-5 hours I know he needs more sleep and he's not getting it. I have to keep cutting his naps short. Shit! We ALL fucking need more sleep and we're not getting it. I'm just so fucking tired of this shit.
I wanted to ask dh to call in yesterday, but I didn't 'cause I knew he wouldn't and honestly, I couldn't stand it if I specifically asked and he didn't even consider it. So I said something along the lines of, "I wish you could stay home." HE FUCKING IGNORED ME.
Yeah and the same shit continues. Nothing I say/do makes any difference. Lots more I want to say here, but I think he might still occasionally read this and I just don't want to get into some stuff.
I'm feeling horribly unattractive, unappreciated, over-extended, burnt out and just fucking exhausted.
I tried to figure out what it is that I need to feel better today. What I want is some damn attention. I want SOMEONE to acknowledge at least a portion of what I do. And no, I'm not fishing for compliments from you people. I want someone, but I also NEED dh to acknowledge me. I would damn near kill for flowers, a card, a sweet word or a stupid trinket--anything of the sort, but it doesn't happen. The only thing he has given me is Starbucks and that was once. While I appreciate it, that's not exactly what I'm looking for right now.
I feel like I'm getting depressed. I know part of it is that I haven't had enough sleep, but damn it, some of this shit has been going on for a long time. And I don't really fucking care about the reason right now. All I care about is that I'm sitting here crying and miserable.
AHHHHHHH. There's so much I want to write, but I'm already late picking up the girls. I haven't even woken The Boy up yet. I just want to go to bed. I'm seriously considering just getting a damn hotel room, taking an Ambien, and getting some glorious uninterrupted sleep. Problem is, when dh is off, I want to be with him. When he has to work, there's no fucking way he'll take any time off so I could do that. I've considered just taking off in the night and not coming back until later the next day. I kinda wonder, though, if he'd even notice or if he would just assume I was in one of the kids' rooms and head to work leaving the kids alone. I can't take that risk. And besides, honestly, I don't think I can do that to him. Sucks since I can't say the same of him towards me.
And now I'm off to run out the door to be late for yet another fucking thing today.
SON OF A BITCH!
Monday, July 30, 2007
All I want is support. All I get is bickering.
About a year ago, a secular homeschooling list started in my local area. This was great news. I've been run off from lists that were supposedly inclusive, but wound up being Christian in disguise. On one particular group, I was horrified by some of the things posted. At one point, a lesbian mom received harassing messages both on and off list insisting she was going to hell for the "evil" way in which she "chose" to live her life and how she was essentially abusing her children.
So I left that group (which later dropped all pretense and announced it was now Christian only and then insisted people sign a "statement of faith" in order to join) and then bounced around looking for another. I'm on a few that really are Christian in disguise, but they're not chat lists, so there's nothing awful like the way that mom was treated. Granted, yeah, I do get annoyed with the posts about how folks need to report to the capitol to protest and protect marriage (Protect it from what, people who love each other and have lived in a committed relationship for far longer than most of their heterosexual counterparts? I think we've proven time and time again that marriage should be protected from us. And honestly, after some of the shit you see with young couples in the military, we probably should be protected from marriage), the completely inaccurate posts attributing all sorts of medical and moral ailments to abortion, and the random quotations about how Jesus loves you, but not YOU because you're different. Would someone please tell me what any of that has to do with homeschooling? I've never been able to figure it out.
When an acquaintance started a secular homeschooling group last year, I was thrilled. Even many of my Christian friends joined because they too were sick of the "holier than thou" attitudes seen on the Christian lists. All this time, I've been pretty happy with the group. I've asked for their opinions/suggestions on several issues and was thrilled with the responses I got.
I just left the group. A moderator raised a decent point, but, being one who loves the drama, she decided to make it all very dramatic. No one else suffers like her. No one understands what she's going through. No one appreciates her. Wah wah wah! For the past few days, the posts have consisted of people asking questions and her bitching about how much everyone sucks and how she's just going to take her toys and go home. Damn it. I joined the list for support, not drama. I unsubscribed.
DAMN IT! It was a great resource, but now it's been destroyed. Why do we have to play the one-up game? Why must we try to convince everyone else that our suffering is worse than everyone else's? Why can't we agree that we all have our own struggles and then band together to help work through them?
So I left that group (which later dropped all pretense and announced it was now Christian only and then insisted people sign a "statement of faith" in order to join) and then bounced around looking for another. I'm on a few that really are Christian in disguise, but they're not chat lists, so there's nothing awful like the way that mom was treated. Granted, yeah, I do get annoyed with the posts about how folks need to report to the capitol to protest and protect marriage (Protect it from what, people who love each other and have lived in a committed relationship for far longer than most of their heterosexual counterparts? I think we've proven time and time again that marriage should be protected from us. And honestly, after some of the shit you see with young couples in the military, we probably should be protected from marriage), the completely inaccurate posts attributing all sorts of medical and moral ailments to abortion, and the random quotations about how Jesus loves you, but not YOU because you're different. Would someone please tell me what any of that has to do with homeschooling? I've never been able to figure it out.
When an acquaintance started a secular homeschooling group last year, I was thrilled. Even many of my Christian friends joined because they too were sick of the "holier than thou" attitudes seen on the Christian lists. All this time, I've been pretty happy with the group. I've asked for their opinions/suggestions on several issues and was thrilled with the responses I got.
I just left the group. A moderator raised a decent point, but, being one who loves the drama, she decided to make it all very dramatic. No one else suffers like her. No one understands what she's going through. No one appreciates her. Wah wah wah! For the past few days, the posts have consisted of people asking questions and her bitching about how much everyone sucks and how she's just going to take her toys and go home. Damn it. I joined the list for support, not drama. I unsubscribed.
DAMN IT! It was a great resource, but now it's been destroyed. Why do we have to play the one-up game? Why must we try to convince everyone else that our suffering is worse than everyone else's? Why can't we agree that we all have our own struggles and then band together to help work through them?
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Hate the administration. Love the t-shirts.
I found political t-shirts that I just adore. If you need a gift idea for me, here ya go.
Wtf
Should Brave Men Die...
My child vs. my president
Osama still doesn't live in Iraq
I love the state shirts.
And dh and I both want this on a bumper sticker.
Wtf
Should Brave Men Die...
My child vs. my president
Osama still doesn't live in Iraq
I love the state shirts.
And dh and I both want this on a bumper sticker.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Homeschoolers are funny.
I love these kids!
Oh how I love homeschooling. Without it, I would not be scanning YouTube for "homeschool" and chanced to come across this gem. More importantly, without homeschooling, these kids might not have time to do this:
Oh how I love homeschooling. Without it, I would not be scanning YouTube for "homeschool" and chanced to come across this gem. More importantly, without homeschooling, these kids might not have time to do this:
This is your mom. This is your mom on cliches. Any questions?
My mother misunderstands lots of things. High on her list are any sort of cliche or phrase. She mutilates them to the point where they are barely recognizable, but very funny.
You may "Kill two birds with one stone," but my mom does it "in one stone."
You may believe "Misery loves company," but my mom thinks, "Misery deserves company."
No amount of my reasoning or arguing will help admit that her versions MAKE NO FREAKING SENSE.
And so, she just keeps on keeping on with her ridiculous phrases.
When I saw the phrases mentioned here, I immediately thought of my mom.
She does use, "Kitten caboodle," "Taken for granite," and I swear the only reason she doesn't say, "Devil-make-hair," is because it has yet to dance across her mind. Give her a few years, though.
You may "Kill two birds with one stone," but my mom does it "in one stone."
You may believe "Misery loves company," but my mom thinks, "Misery deserves company."
No amount of my reasoning or arguing will help admit that her versions MAKE NO FREAKING SENSE.
And so, she just keeps on keeping on with her ridiculous phrases.
When I saw the phrases mentioned here, I immediately thought of my mom.
She does use, "Kitten caboodle," "Taken for granite," and I swear the only reason she doesn't say, "Devil-make-hair," is because it has yet to dance across her mind. Give her a few years, though.
Out to lunch
If, by "Lunch," you mean, "Getting hopelessly wrapped up in the land of Harry Potter."
I finished on Tuesday, but then that meant I needed yesterday to recuperate and get all the work done that was ignored while I read the book.
I'm done and I'm not going to spoil anything for anyone, so fear not.
I need to run out in a little while, so no long posts from me, but fear not. I'll be back later and I have funny catalog pictures to scan, share, and mock. So stay tuned.
I finished on Tuesday, but then that meant I needed yesterday to recuperate and get all the work done that was ignored while I read the book.
I'm done and I'm not going to spoil anything for anyone, so fear not.
I need to run out in a little while, so no long posts from me, but fear not. I'll be back later and I have funny catalog pictures to scan, share, and mock. So stay tuned.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Add this to my list of super powers.
We've already established that I am the proud possessor of powers of the super variety.
Here's another one to add to the list of super powers.
I have the amazing ability to say completely inappropriate things about penises (penisi?) when random people appear. Then again, maybe they have the super power of appearing right at the most inappropriate moments. You be the judge.
While at a party this weekend, we got on the topic of inappropriate kid penis-related things. I started to tell a story and a friend even said, "Maybe we should close the door." So I did and continued on with my story. I explained how I thought it was funny/embarassing that every time the boy reaches for the boy parts, the girls insist on asking The Boy in sing songy voices, "Do you like your penis?"
Apparently, during my story, someone walked into the room behind me and I didn't notice until I heard the door close right as I uttered the word, "Penis," in the same sing-songy voice that the kids use.
Then we ventured off into foreskin stories. I shared one as yet another worker walked in. I forget what the story was exactly, but it was yet another in the list of mortifying stories that you don't share with anyone outside your circle of friends.
How the hell did I manage to tell the stories right as people walked in EVERY SINGLE TIME? Each time, I attracted these people THROUGH A CLOSED DOOR.
I don't know about you, but my super powers amaze me!
Here's another one to add to the list of super powers.
I have the amazing ability to say completely inappropriate things about penises (penisi?) when random people appear. Then again, maybe they have the super power of appearing right at the most inappropriate moments. You be the judge.
While at a party this weekend, we got on the topic of inappropriate kid penis-related things. I started to tell a story and a friend even said, "Maybe we should close the door." So I did and continued on with my story. I explained how I thought it was funny/embarassing that every time the boy reaches for the boy parts, the girls insist on asking The Boy in sing songy voices, "Do you like your penis?"
Apparently, during my story, someone walked into the room behind me and I didn't notice until I heard the door close right as I uttered the word, "Penis," in the same sing-songy voice that the kids use.
Then we ventured off into foreskin stories. I shared one as yet another worker walked in. I forget what the story was exactly, but it was yet another in the list of mortifying stories that you don't share with anyone outside your circle of friends.
How the hell did I manage to tell the stories right as people walked in EVERY SINGLE TIME? Each time, I attracted these people THROUGH A CLOSED DOOR.
I don't know about you, but my super powers amaze me!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Let's see Cicely Mary Barker paint a picture of THAT fairy.
I just checked one of my spam folders and saw the following title:
"Get a visit from the big dick fairy."
Now you'll forgive me while I roll on the floor laughing hysterically.
I hate spam with a passion, but that cracked me the hell up.
"Get a visit from the big dick fairy."
Now you'll forgive me while I roll on the floor laughing hysterically.
I hate spam with a passion, but that cracked me the hell up.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Random link Friday
That is one of the cutest things I've ever seen. Watch all the way to the end. When you think it can't get any cuter, it does.
I also came across the remix version:
Thursday, July 19, 2007
What would Jesus do?
Dear obnoxious people,The entire world is not Christian. Even those who are don't particularly enjoy those obnoxious "G-d will hate you if you don't forward this to 10,000 people" Christian e-mail forwards. People who are on topic-specific message boards don't enjoy getting said forwards when the message boards have NOTHING AT ALL TO DO with religion.
Please cut that shit out. WWJD? I'm pretty sure he'd beat you senseless.
Image courtesy of Chucklenut Shirts.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Decapitated monkeys and Nine Inch Nails
When Girl1 lost her first tooth, the Tooth Fairy left her not only a $1 coin, but also a small stuffed monkey. One hour after the kids woke up the next morning, Girl1 had already decapitated him. I've heard of those mothers who scream, "We can't have anything nice in this house and it's all because of you." Yeah, I understand that now. Give my kids a few hours and they can destroy anything. Often, it doesn't even take that long.
I found the decapitated monkey fascinating. Not only would it be a kickin' name for a band, but the visual is pretty neat too. See what I mean?
Doesn't he look sad about the fact that his head was violent torn from his body?
And now for more randomness. I've heard this song on the radio, but haven't paid much attention. It came on while I was in the car with dh yesterday and he recited the first two lines and told me he liked the song. I heard it again today and looked up the rest of the lyrics. Here they are:
Nine Inch Nails - Capital/Capitol G
I pushed a button and elected him to office and a
He pushed a button and it dropped a bomb
You pushed a button and could watch it on the television
Those motherfuckers didn't last too long ha ha
I'm sick of hearing 'bout the haves and the have nots
Have some personal accountability
The biggest problem with the way that we've been doing things is
The more we let you have the less that I'll be keeping for me
Well I used to stand for something
Now I'm on my hands and knees
Traded in my God for this one
He signs his name with a Capital G
Don't give a shit about the temperature in Guatemala
Don't really see what all the fuss is about
Ain't gonna worry bout no future generations and a
I'm sure somebody's gonna figure it out
Don't try to tell how some power can corrupt a person
You haven't had enough to know what it's like
You're only angry 'cause you wish you were in my position
Now nod your head because you know that I'm right—all right!
Well I used to stand for something
But forgot what that could be
There's a lot of me inside you
Maybe you're afraid to see
Well I used to stand for something
Now I'm on my hands and knees
Traded in my God for this one
He signs his name with a Capital G
I found the decapitated monkey fascinating. Not only would it be a kickin' name for a band, but the visual is pretty neat too. See what I mean?
Doesn't he look sad about the fact that his head was violent torn from his body?
And now for more randomness. I've heard this song on the radio, but haven't paid much attention. It came on while I was in the car with dh yesterday and he recited the first two lines and told me he liked the song. I heard it again today and looked up the rest of the lyrics. Here they are:
Nine Inch Nails - Capital/Capitol G
I pushed a button and elected him to office and a
He pushed a button and it dropped a bomb
You pushed a button and could watch it on the television
Those motherfuckers didn't last too long ha ha
I'm sick of hearing 'bout the haves and the have nots
Have some personal accountability
The biggest problem with the way that we've been doing things is
The more we let you have the less that I'll be keeping for me
Well I used to stand for something
Now I'm on my hands and knees
Traded in my God for this one
He signs his name with a Capital G
Don't give a shit about the temperature in Guatemala
Don't really see what all the fuss is about
Ain't gonna worry bout no future generations and a
I'm sure somebody's gonna figure it out
Don't try to tell how some power can corrupt a person
You haven't had enough to know what it's like
You're only angry 'cause you wish you were in my position
Now nod your head because you know that I'm right—all right!
Well I used to stand for something
But forgot what that could be
There's a lot of me inside you
Maybe you're afraid to see
Well I used to stand for something
Now I'm on my hands and knees
Traded in my God for this one
He signs his name with a Capital G
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Thank you, Krissy.
Got a comment last night that made me feel better. The compliment part was nice, but it's the last part that I loved. Yes! Someone gets it! Thanks.
You are a beautiful and amazing woman, no amount of words I can say can truly capture how much so. And no amount of words can take the place of hearing them from your dh. I'm sorry :-(
You are a beautiful and amazing woman, no amount of words I can say can truly capture how much so. And no amount of words can take the place of hearing them from your dh. I'm sorry :-(
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
"I want to be cool, tall, vulnerable and luscious.
I would have it all if I only had this much."
Short version of the long story:
See the title.
The last compliment I got from my husband was in September of '04.
I feel unattractive and unappreciated.
No amount of trying to rationally discuss it, working out, crying over it, or trying to avoid it all together seems to make a difference.
I've got nothing else in my bag of tricks. I have no idea what else to do. I'm really upset and that doesn't seem to matter.
I've got nothing more for ya. I've been avoiding blogging about it at all. I really don't know what to say other than, this sucks and I sure as hell hope something changes soon. While I'm hoping, I'm not betting on it.
See the title.
The last compliment I got from my husband was in September of '04.
I feel unattractive and unappreciated.
No amount of trying to rationally discuss it, working out, crying over it, or trying to avoid it all together seems to make a difference.
I've got nothing else in my bag of tricks. I have no idea what else to do. I'm really upset and that doesn't seem to matter.
I've got nothing more for ya. I've been avoiding blogging about it at all. I really don't know what to say other than, this sucks and I sure as hell hope something changes soon. While I'm hoping, I'm not betting on it.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Doll houses and recycling
In my parents' basement is a 3 foot tall doll house with working lights and tons of expensive furniture.
Although, I think I would have liked this better: The Perfect Dollhouse
I love that not only is it made entirely of recycled goods, but, if made the right size, it can slide right under a bed.
Look through the whole article. They have some great ideas for furniture and accessories.
I can see we're going to be busy around here. We have a home to build, decorate and furnish.
Although, I think I would have liked this better: The Perfect Dollhouse
I love that not only is it made entirely of recycled goods, but, if made the right size, it can slide right under a bed.
Look through the whole article. They have some great ideas for furniture and accessories.
I can see we're going to be busy around here. We have a home to build, decorate and furnish.
Monday, July 09, 2007
An open letter to the medical community
Dear doctors/nurses/other medical professionals who really should know what you're talking about (because it's your job and because you have an ethical obligation to do so),
Please do your research. I realize you probably only had an hour or so on breastfeeding during your education. I know more and more studies are constantly being released that show the negative effects of not breastfeeding. I realize you have busy practices and busy private lives, but please, I beg of you; our children beg of you; my sister begs of you, please be informed. YOU HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY TO BE INFORMED.
I am sick and tired of trying to help moms fix what misinformed doctors have screwed up. I've gathered information for a mom whose baby suffered through nipple confusion because the pediatrician refused to follow the AAP's standard treatment for newborn jaundice. I've counseled moms in tears because their sleepy babies weren't gaining weight. When I shared the information with them from recent studies about the effects of epidurals on newborns, several moms told me, "But the L&D nurses/OB told me it wouldn't effect the baby." I've had to bite my tongue so as to not rant and rave over a doctor who recommended unnecessary supplementation of an infant whose weight was nowhere near the threshold for recommending such action. The mom hoped to supplement for only a day. A month later, she was forced to continue giving formula as her supply was drying up as a result. The baby's already "not quite right" latch got much worse thanks to nipple preference from the supplemental bottles of formula. And yes, I admit that I too suffered through almost unbearable physical pain as a result of how our breastfeeding experience was mismanaged in the hospital when my girls were born. After that, I had a pediatrician whose first line of defense was to supplement. When I refused, she reluctantly agreed that I could try nursing more often. I did and at a weight check a week later, they gained substantially more than was expected.
My daughters' first year had far too many of those moments. Each time, I provided the doctors with stacks of research. Every single time, they handed them back immediately. The most they ever did was glance at the paperwork. Being ignorant is one thing. Willful ignorance, however, is disgusting and can be devastating.
I have a soft spot in my heart for those moms who get awful medical advice in part because I was one such mom. I also have a particular disdain for medical professionals who are not informed. That is their job. They have a responsibility to the mom and baby.
This rant is brought to you courtesy of my sister. She called me today from the doctor where she was being treated for an eye infection. The doctor informed her that she wouldn't be able to breastfeed while taking the Fluoroquinolone antibiotic eye drop he was prescribing for her. She called me while in the office to have me look it up in Hale's book to see what the alternatives were. I was floored when I saw it is an L2 which is "Moderately Safe." Ratings start at L1 and go up. To give you an idea of the ratings, Percoset, which is commonly prescribed for many nursing moms after birth is an L3. The eye drop he wanted to prescribe is listed by the American Academy of Pediatrics as "Maternal Medication Usually Compatible with Breastfeeding." Under "Pediatric Concerns," Hale notes, "None reported..."
Now, keep in mind, my sister has a family history of allergies to dairy and soy. Her daughter had severe allergies to both. So should my sister have decided to follow this doctor's advice and stop breastfeeding her infant son while on the medication, what on earth would she have fed the child? Why would she expose him to these potentially dangerous proteins when the drug is safe?
And this doctor she saw had never heard of Dr. Hale. Pardon me while I lift my jaw up off the floor. I have never known a doctor who wasn't familiar with the foremost authority on breastfeeding and medication. He, quite literally, wrote the book on it and he continues to do so. To not be familiar with Hale and continue to give erroneous information when such a wealth of the accurate variety is readily available is a violation of the hippocratic oath.
So, medical professionals, I beg of you to DO YOUR JOB. Be informed. Help your patients make accurate and informed decisions. I'm not asking you to develop any psychic abilities. I'm not asking you to take on the weight of the world. I'm simply asking that you make use of the tools that already exist for the taking. I'm asking you to do your job. Treat your patients. Don't spout misinformation and simply send them on their way. DO YOUR JOB!
Please do your research. I realize you probably only had an hour or so on breastfeeding during your education. I know more and more studies are constantly being released that show the negative effects of not breastfeeding. I realize you have busy practices and busy private lives, but please, I beg of you; our children beg of you; my sister begs of you, please be informed. YOU HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY TO BE INFORMED.
I am sick and tired of trying to help moms fix what misinformed doctors have screwed up. I've gathered information for a mom whose baby suffered through nipple confusion because the pediatrician refused to follow the AAP's standard treatment for newborn jaundice. I've counseled moms in tears because their sleepy babies weren't gaining weight. When I shared the information with them from recent studies about the effects of epidurals on newborns, several moms told me, "But the L&D nurses/OB told me it wouldn't effect the baby." I've had to bite my tongue so as to not rant and rave over a doctor who recommended unnecessary supplementation of an infant whose weight was nowhere near the threshold for recommending such action. The mom hoped to supplement for only a day. A month later, she was forced to continue giving formula as her supply was drying up as a result. The baby's already "not quite right" latch got much worse thanks to nipple preference from the supplemental bottles of formula. And yes, I admit that I too suffered through almost unbearable physical pain as a result of how our breastfeeding experience was mismanaged in the hospital when my girls were born. After that, I had a pediatrician whose first line of defense was to supplement. When I refused, she reluctantly agreed that I could try nursing more often. I did and at a weight check a week later, they gained substantially more than was expected.
My daughters' first year had far too many of those moments. Each time, I provided the doctors with stacks of research. Every single time, they handed them back immediately. The most they ever did was glance at the paperwork. Being ignorant is one thing. Willful ignorance, however, is disgusting and can be devastating.
I have a soft spot in my heart for those moms who get awful medical advice in part because I was one such mom. I also have a particular disdain for medical professionals who are not informed. That is their job. They have a responsibility to the mom and baby.
This rant is brought to you courtesy of my sister. She called me today from the doctor where she was being treated for an eye infection. The doctor informed her that she wouldn't be able to breastfeed while taking the Fluoroquinolone antibiotic eye drop he was prescribing for her. She called me while in the office to have me look it up in Hale's book to see what the alternatives were. I was floored when I saw it is an L2 which is "Moderately Safe." Ratings start at L1 and go up. To give you an idea of the ratings, Percoset, which is commonly prescribed for many nursing moms after birth is an L3. The eye drop he wanted to prescribe is listed by the American Academy of Pediatrics as "Maternal Medication Usually Compatible with Breastfeeding." Under "Pediatric Concerns," Hale notes, "None reported..."
Now, keep in mind, my sister has a family history of allergies to dairy and soy. Her daughter had severe allergies to both. So should my sister have decided to follow this doctor's advice and stop breastfeeding her infant son while on the medication, what on earth would she have fed the child? Why would she expose him to these potentially dangerous proteins when the drug is safe?
And this doctor she saw had never heard of Dr. Hale. Pardon me while I lift my jaw up off the floor. I have never known a doctor who wasn't familiar with the foremost authority on breastfeeding and medication. He, quite literally, wrote the book on it and he continues to do so. To not be familiar with Hale and continue to give erroneous information when such a wealth of the accurate variety is readily available is a violation of the hippocratic oath.
So, medical professionals, I beg of you to DO YOUR JOB. Be informed. Help your patients make accurate and informed decisions. I'm not asking you to develop any psychic abilities. I'm not asking you to take on the weight of the world. I'm simply asking that you make use of the tools that already exist for the taking. I'm asking you to do your job. Treat your patients. Don't spout misinformation and simply send them on their way. DO YOUR JOB!
Sunday, July 01, 2007
"What the heck is G-d going to do with a dead dog?"
Dh and I both cracked up (I cracked up. He smiled. That's "cracking up" for him) over this comment from AndreAnna left at Motherhood Uncensored (see links):
How friggen adorable. My parents told my nephew that his dog Paige was dying and when she passed away, she'd go and be with God. Then, with a straight face, he looks at me and says "But what the heck is God doing (sic) to do with a dead dog?"
Like her nephew, my kid's never cease to amaze me with the wisdom, confusion, randomness and general hilarity that spouts from their mouths.
We already have the incredibly insightful comment Girl1 came up with after Sunday school (scroll down a little bit), some comments from them on Jewish identity, their ambitious plans for the future, and I still find the first announcement absolutely hysterical.
We can't forget everyone's favorite mispronunciation.
Well, this evening, my children informed me that I'm going to have a president for a son-in-law.
My kids don't like Bush. Wonder where they got that from. Tonight, at bedtime, Girl2 told me that she was going to send Bush "Over there, away from his wife forever and he can never come back." She explained, "He's mean to the soldiers, so I'm going to be bad to him." After a brief reminder that we can always try to behave well even when others are mean to us. Without a pause, Girl2 then explained her new plans. "I'm going to love Bush and marry him." When I expressed confusion about the sudden change of heart, she explained, "That way, I can love him and be nice to him and maybe then he'll learn to be nice to other people."
Gotta admire the simplicity, the optimism and of course the logic of childhood.
How friggen adorable. My parents told my nephew that his dog Paige was dying and when she passed away, she'd go and be with God. Then, with a straight face, he looks at me and says "But what the heck is God doing (sic) to do with a dead dog?"
Like her nephew, my kid's never cease to amaze me with the wisdom, confusion, randomness and general hilarity that spouts from their mouths.
We already have the incredibly insightful comment Girl1 came up with after Sunday school (scroll down a little bit), some comments from them on Jewish identity, their ambitious plans for the future, and I still find the first announcement absolutely hysterical.
We can't forget everyone's favorite mispronunciation.
Well, this evening, my children informed me that I'm going to have a president for a son-in-law.
My kids don't like Bush. Wonder where they got that from. Tonight, at bedtime, Girl2 told me that she was going to send Bush "Over there, away from his wife forever and he can never come back." She explained, "He's mean to the soldiers, so I'm going to be bad to him." After a brief reminder that we can always try to behave well even when others are mean to us. Without a pause, Girl2 then explained her new plans. "I'm going to love Bush and marry him." When I expressed confusion about the sudden change of heart, she explained, "That way, I can love him and be nice to him and maybe then he'll learn to be nice to other people."
Gotta admire the simplicity, the optimism and of course the logic of childhood.
Monday, June 25, 2007
8th verse, same as the first...
A little bit louder? 3 kids later, hell yeah it's louder. A little bit worse? Nope. Not at all.
Where were you at this time 8 years ago?
I, for one, had just finished making a few life-long promises.
Back then, I got a pretty ring to mark the occasion. Today, I got more jewlery. Yay.
Dh suprised me today with this:
Here's the discription: Bereshit (pronounced like Bear eh sheet) Toggle Bracelet
"Bereshit" means" in the beginning." It's the first word that appears in Torah. It's also the name of the first book which in English is Genesis. (Torah uses the first word of each book as the title). The word is sometimes used to mark new beginnings. I want that tatooed over my c-section scar (If I don't do laser removal. I either want to get rid of that thing or reclaim it).
Dh knew I wanted the bracelet, but I wasn't expecting it. So he gets bonus points. Not only did he get me an anniversary gift, but he got one I liked and one I wasn't expecting.
I'm glad I grabbed that man up 8 years ago when I had the chance. :-)
Where were you at this time 8 years ago?
I, for one, had just finished making a few life-long promises.
Back then, I got a pretty ring to mark the occasion. Today, I got more jewlery. Yay.
Dh suprised me today with this:
Here's the discription: Bereshit (pronounced like Bear eh sheet) Toggle Bracelet
"Bereshit" means" in the beginning." It's the first word that appears in Torah. It's also the name of the first book which in English is Genesis. (Torah uses the first word of each book as the title). The word is sometimes used to mark new beginnings. I want that tatooed over my c-section scar (If I don't do laser removal. I either want to get rid of that thing or reclaim it).
Dh knew I wanted the bracelet, but I wasn't expecting it. So he gets bonus points. Not only did he get me an anniversary gift, but he got one I liked and one I wasn't expecting.
I'm glad I grabbed that man up 8 years ago when I had the chance. :-)
Sunday, June 24, 2007
On super powers
Shhhh. I possess super powers. It's a secret. Don't tell my husband.
I can make stuff disappear.
By "stuff," I mean yummy chocolaty cookies with creamy filling and by "disappear," I mean "eat them."
Willpower is NOT, however, one of my super powers. So I don't like having junk food in the house. Dh, however, enjoys the goodness found in Oreos. On occasion, he'll buy a pack. He thinks he's clever. He puts them up on the top shelf. I'm short, so I can't reach that shelf.
NEWS FLASH: I possess the amazing ability to climb.
I can make stuff disappear.
By "stuff," I mean yummy chocolaty cookies with creamy filling and by "disappear," I mean "eat them."
Willpower is NOT, however, one of my super powers. So I don't like having junk food in the house. Dh, however, enjoys the goodness found in Oreos. On occasion, he'll buy a pack. He thinks he's clever. He puts them up on the top shelf. I'm short, so I can't reach that shelf.
NEWS FLASH: I possess the amazing ability to climb.
Our photo today has been brought to you by the letters n-u-t-s and by Kamrin.
I busted out my photoshop skills after catching up with Kamrin's latest family drama. I, too, come from a family brimming with insanity. While they have been fairly well behaved recently (and I've been trying to keep my distance from those who insist on fucking up royally every single damn chance they get), I know the frustration all too well.
And so, I decided to create that in an attempt to make Kamrin giggle.
FTR, I found the original photo here. I purposely used that shot because it appears to be staged.
I still exist & I still hate Wal-Mart.
Sorry for the absence. Things just got busy. No huge disaster or anything like that.
Although, in the midst of my busy-ness (as opposed to business), I did have "fun" while food shopping (or at least attempting to) last week. I promised you another Wal-Mart story and here it is.
Fathers' Day was that Sunday and dh HATES food shopping. We usually go on Sunday, so I decided I would take the kids on Friday while he was at work to give him a break on Fathers' Day. I walk in at Friday around 3:30. I was in the process of putting The Boy in the little seat in the cart when the power went out. Now we've been there once before when the power went out. After a few seconds, the generator kicked in. I expected that would be the case and so I went shopping.
Now there are a few things we've been meaning to buy for weeks, but we keep forgetting. This time, though, I remembered almost all of them. I even remembered a few I had forgotten that I forgot. I was so proud of myself. About 10 minutes into my shopping, though, I heard someone say the store was closing. I wasn't too concerned and kept shopping. Then a minute or two later, I heard someone else say the same thing.
So we abandoned our shopping and went on a hunt for an associate. Low and behold, I found one and asked. Sure enough, she said they couldn't get the power back on and so they were closing the store. AHHHHHHHHHH.
I was annoyed (of course that freaking happened when I was there), but not too upset. I only spent about 15 minutes in the store. I did, however, feel awful for the folks who were in line with full carts. Then a frazzled mom walked by with a cart full of formula and a crying baby. That poor hungry baby! I wondered if they'd let the mom leave cash for one container or something like that. I never did see what happened, though. She hurried past.
When we stepped outside, we realized the whole block was down. Luckily, I noticed that soon enough so that I was able to take the easiest route home (otherwise, I would have been trying to make several lefts at intersections with no power and therefore no lights). Although, I had motivated myself with the promise of the nearby Starbucks. That Starbucks was also affected by the power outage. So no coffee for me. I'm proud to say that while there was some growling involved, I did not pout.
Although, in the midst of my busy-ness (as opposed to business), I did have "fun" while food shopping (or at least attempting to) last week. I promised you another Wal-Mart story and here it is.
Fathers' Day was that Sunday and dh HATES food shopping. We usually go on Sunday, so I decided I would take the kids on Friday while he was at work to give him a break on Fathers' Day. I walk in at Friday around 3:30. I was in the process of putting The Boy in the little seat in the cart when the power went out. Now we've been there once before when the power went out. After a few seconds, the generator kicked in. I expected that would be the case and so I went shopping.
Now there are a few things we've been meaning to buy for weeks, but we keep forgetting. This time, though, I remembered almost all of them. I even remembered a few I had forgotten that I forgot. I was so proud of myself. About 10 minutes into my shopping, though, I heard someone say the store was closing. I wasn't too concerned and kept shopping. Then a minute or two later, I heard someone else say the same thing.
So we abandoned our shopping and went on a hunt for an associate. Low and behold, I found one and asked. Sure enough, she said they couldn't get the power back on and so they were closing the store. AHHHHHHHHHH.
I was annoyed (of course that freaking happened when I was there), but not too upset. I only spent about 15 minutes in the store. I did, however, feel awful for the folks who were in line with full carts. Then a frazzled mom walked by with a cart full of formula and a crying baby. That poor hungry baby! I wondered if they'd let the mom leave cash for one container or something like that. I never did see what happened, though. She hurried past.
When we stepped outside, we realized the whole block was down. Luckily, I noticed that soon enough so that I was able to take the easiest route home (otherwise, I would have been trying to make several lefts at intersections with no power and therefore no lights). Although, I had motivated myself with the promise of the nearby Starbucks. That Starbucks was also affected by the power outage. So no coffee for me. I'm proud to say that while there was some growling involved, I did not pout.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Sometimes, the dread is more painful than answering the question.
Yesterday, I was just not in a good mood, but I was determined to make today different.
At the gym, I was too exhausted to do my usual routine. I spent a good deal of my morning moaning to my friends, "I'm just not up for this." At home, I was in a bitchy mood. It wasn't by any means an awful day, but I just wasn't feeling it.
This morning, I woke up filled with dread. I have so much to do and I'm falling behind. Then, I asked myself, "Why haven't I done these things?" In the past, there were specific reasons. Now, though, it was really just petty excuses keeping me from crossing them off my list.
So before I even got out of bed, I decided today is going to be the day I get things done. Most of those, "I really need to"s are getting done. I'm finding it takes far less effort to actually get them done than it did to dread them.
Here's a list of my accomplishments thus far:
When I see it all listed there, it really makes me feel good. Look at all that I've gotten done.
There is, however, more to do, so let me go deal with all that. I'll be back later, though. I have yet another Wal-Mart story to share. You know my Wal-Mart stories are always good.
At the gym, I was too exhausted to do my usual routine. I spent a good deal of my morning moaning to my friends, "I'm just not up for this." At home, I was in a bitchy mood. It wasn't by any means an awful day, but I just wasn't feeling it.
This morning, I woke up filled with dread. I have so much to do and I'm falling behind. Then, I asked myself, "Why haven't I done these things?" In the past, there were specific reasons. Now, though, it was really just petty excuses keeping me from crossing them off my list.
So before I even got out of bed, I decided today is going to be the day I get things done. Most of those, "I really need to"s are getting done. I'm finding it takes far less effort to actually get them done than it did to dread them.
Here's a list of my accomplishments thus far:
- Got out of bed and dressed x4 (come on, when you get this done for not only yourself, but 3 little people too, that really is a big deal).
- Called in my prescrption refill (although I gave them the wrong time for pick-up, but I can deal).
- Put a table on Freecycle. This is an end table that's in great shape, but was rescued from the garbage (courtesy of my dad) years ago. It has traveled all over the country with us as the military moved us, but now it's an extra piece of unnecessary furniture. When we first decided to follow Kamrin's lead and simplify, I knew this table had to go. I knew I wanted to offer it on Freecycle, but just never did. Now it has been offered and a woman is coming to pick it up later today. Woo hoo.
- Dealt with work stuff. This has been the biggest stressor. There's paperwork I needed to fill out months ago, but never did. Today, it's done and the checks really are in the mail.
- Swept up the dining room.
- Put on the last load of laundry (I have 3 kids, a husband and animals. There really never is a "last" load, but this is the bleach load I needed to get done). That includes throwing in the sponges that have been on the front porch ever since we washed the car last week.
- Put paperwork in the lock box.
- Cleaned out the bags in the dining room including the old diaper bag that needed to be tossed.
- Pile less official paperwork on the file box. Although, that looks bad, so I'm going to take a minute right now and put it IN the box. There. Done.
- The kids did their school work (and lots of it--their choice) all on their own.
- Hugged the kids and told 'em I love them.
- Vacuumed up everything that was left on the dining room floor.
- Sorted papers that had taken up residence on the dining room table. That is my biggest hot spot. Everything piles up there.
- Put aside the papers that need to be filled out (and in the process, found the paperwork for the work bank account that I thought I lost).
- Filled the napkin holder.
- Added a new blog entry.
When I see it all listed there, it really makes me feel good. Look at all that I've gotten done.
There is, however, more to do, so let me go deal with all that. I'll be back later, though. I have yet another Wal-Mart story to share. You know my Wal-Mart stories are always good.
Friday, June 15, 2007
At what point do I start building an arc?
That is not a pond. That is not a lake. That's my garden. Well, at least it was before the rain came.
Forget 40 days and nights, it's been raining damn near forever. We get just enough of a break for people to head out and mow their insanely high lawns. Which works wonders for my allergies. sniffle. sniffle. Then the rains start again.
Yesterday, my girls asked me, "But G-d promised He wouldn't send a flood again. Has He seen our backyard?"
I reminded them that the rainbow was a sign that He would never flood the WORLD again. He made no promises about our property.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
My husband, the hero
I love my husband. I love my husband. My husband rocks! I really can't say it enough. Yay for dh.
I had a stressful latter-half of the day. The boy was cranky and screaming. The girls wouldn't listen. In an attempt to shut them all the hell up and keep them distracted, we went outside where it was hot as hell. And The Boy STILL insisted on crying and whining no matter what we offered him to play with. It continued on like that into the evening. Plus my allergies have settled into my sinuses, head and throat. I was miserable.
Than dh came home from work bearing Starbucks. It was completely unexpected and exactly what I needed.
G-d bless that man!
I think Benjamin Franklin missed the mark. My husband is proof that G-d loves me and wants me to be happy.
I had a stressful latter-half of the day. The boy was cranky and screaming. The girls wouldn't listen. In an attempt to shut them all the hell up and keep them distracted, we went outside where it was hot as hell. And The Boy STILL insisted on crying and whining no matter what we offered him to play with. It continued on like that into the evening. Plus my allergies have settled into my sinuses, head and throat. I was miserable.
Than dh came home from work bearing Starbucks. It was completely unexpected and exactly what I needed.
G-d bless that man!
I think Benjamin Franklin missed the mark. My husband is proof that G-d loves me and wants me to be happy.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
The truth is out there.
and it's in here too.
1. I once nursed a baby on the dance floor at a wedding while dancing (and no one knew).
TRUE. The girls were 9 months old when my youngest brother got married. At one point, I was nursing one of them when they called all the couples up for that, "If you've been married 1 year, sit down down. If you've been married 5 years, sit down now..." dance where you're left with the couple who has been together the longest. Dh and I got up and danced. One of my nieces suggested I let her sister hold the baby while we danced. I said, "She's nursing," to which my niece replied, "Oh, then forget it. My sister can't do that for you."
2. On our first date, my ex (who was on probation at the time after spending time in jail for dealing) took me into NYC with a friend of his to buy a dime bag.
TRUE. When I met my ex, he was on probation after serving a 3-year sentence for dealing drugs. He was clean at the time. During our first date, his friend called and asked us to go with him into the City. We did and while there, the friend bought a dime bag. Not long after that, my ex started using again and then we were done. I recently found out that my ex-boyfriend has had at least 4 more felony charges since then including one earlier this year for (big shock) cocaine possession.
3. While I speak only 3 or 4 words of German, a paper of mine on breastfeeding was published (in German) in a national (Germany being the nation) magazine.
TRUE. My German is limited to "Good morning" and "dog farts," but a paper of mine was translated and published in German about 5 years ago. The magazine editors found it online and contacted me about publishing it in German. I still have a copy of the magazine around here somewhere. I can't read a word of it, though and I wrote it.
4. My father was 11 when my oldest brother was born.
TRUE. I can't believe no one guessed this one. I usually throw people with this bit of information. My oldest brother is from my mother's first marriage. My mother is more than a tad bit older than my dad. So yes, my father was 11 when my oldest brother was born. My father, however, was NOT my oldest brother's father.
5. One year, for Halloween, I went as dead Britney Spears (No, I'm not THAT young. I was in college at the time).
TRUE. And there's a picture of me in that costume in the yearbook from that year. This was right when Britney was still fairly new on the music scene and "Hit Me Baby One More Time" was a big hit (and drove me insane). I wore an old school uniform with the skirt rolled all the way up, put my hair in pigtails, used stage make-up to draw a bloody slash on my neck, rigged a fake knife on a headband (ala Steve Martin's arrow through the head), made my lips purple and painted my face to look pale. It was a huge hit.
6. I took piano lessons for 11 years (and 3 months) and then broke my mother's heart when I decided I'd rather be the next free-spirited (sometimes dirty-mouthed) Tori Amos than a dignified classical musician confined to an orchestra.
FALSE. I took 2 years of "keyboard" lessons when I was in band as a kid, but that's it. Although, I would love to be Tori Amos. I actually stole this idea from my former sister-in-law (she and my BIL are now divorced). I once heard her (very overbearing and horribly obnoxious) mother ranting about how her daughter trained for years to be a classical musician and in the end, decided she only wanted to play "rock music."
7. When I was 13, I could not only name every single (daytime) soap opera that had ever been on the air, but I could put them in chronological order.
TRUE. I was absolutely addicted to soap operas when I was much younger. I have an addictive personality and a love of information, so I ate up every little bit of information. I could list every soap opera in the order of which it premiered. Of course, that was long before Passions and that General Hospital spin off that didn't last very long.
8. When I was 4, I wanted to be a priest (no, not a rabbi, a priest--a CATHOLIC priest. Yes, I knew you had to be male to be a priest, but I figured it was a stupid rule so it certainly didn't apply to me. Which, I might add, should be the case with all stupid rules).
TRUE. I still vividly remember that conversation with my mother. I was in the bathtub and we were discussing what I wanted to be when I grew up. I have no clue why I wanted to be a priest, but I remember being very offended when my mother told me women couldn't be priests. FTR, The Reform Jewish movement first admitted women to the rabbinical seminary in the 60s. The Conservative movement did around 1980.
So, okay, how did you do? Did any of these really shock anyone?
1. I once nursed a baby on the dance floor at a wedding while dancing (and no one knew).
TRUE. The girls were 9 months old when my youngest brother got married. At one point, I was nursing one of them when they called all the couples up for that, "If you've been married 1 year, sit down down. If you've been married 5 years, sit down now..." dance where you're left with the couple who has been together the longest. Dh and I got up and danced. One of my nieces suggested I let her sister hold the baby while we danced. I said, "She's nursing," to which my niece replied, "Oh, then forget it. My sister can't do that for you."
2. On our first date, my ex (who was on probation at the time after spending time in jail for dealing) took me into NYC with a friend of his to buy a dime bag.
TRUE. When I met my ex, he was on probation after serving a 3-year sentence for dealing drugs. He was clean at the time. During our first date, his friend called and asked us to go with him into the City. We did and while there, the friend bought a dime bag. Not long after that, my ex started using again and then we were done. I recently found out that my ex-boyfriend has had at least 4 more felony charges since then including one earlier this year for (big shock) cocaine possession.
3. While I speak only 3 or 4 words of German, a paper of mine on breastfeeding was published (in German) in a national (Germany being the nation) magazine.
TRUE. My German is limited to "Good morning" and "dog farts," but a paper of mine was translated and published in German about 5 years ago. The magazine editors found it online and contacted me about publishing it in German. I still have a copy of the magazine around here somewhere. I can't read a word of it, though and I wrote it.
4. My father was 11 when my oldest brother was born.
TRUE. I can't believe no one guessed this one. I usually throw people with this bit of information. My oldest brother is from my mother's first marriage. My mother is more than a tad bit older than my dad. So yes, my father was 11 when my oldest brother was born. My father, however, was NOT my oldest brother's father.
5. One year, for Halloween, I went as dead Britney Spears (No, I'm not THAT young. I was in college at the time).
TRUE. And there's a picture of me in that costume in the yearbook from that year. This was right when Britney was still fairly new on the music scene and "Hit Me Baby One More Time" was a big hit (and drove me insane). I wore an old school uniform with the skirt rolled all the way up, put my hair in pigtails, used stage make-up to draw a bloody slash on my neck, rigged a fake knife on a headband (ala Steve Martin's arrow through the head), made my lips purple and painted my face to look pale. It was a huge hit.
6. I took piano lessons for 11 years (and 3 months) and then broke my mother's heart when I decided I'd rather be the next free-spirited (sometimes dirty-mouthed) Tori Amos than a dignified classical musician confined to an orchestra.
FALSE. I took 2 years of "keyboard" lessons when I was in band as a kid, but that's it. Although, I would love to be Tori Amos. I actually stole this idea from my former sister-in-law (she and my BIL are now divorced). I once heard her (very overbearing and horribly obnoxious) mother ranting about how her daughter trained for years to be a classical musician and in the end, decided she only wanted to play "rock music."
7. When I was 13, I could not only name every single (daytime) soap opera that had ever been on the air, but I could put them in chronological order.
TRUE. I was absolutely addicted to soap operas when I was much younger. I have an addictive personality and a love of information, so I ate up every little bit of information. I could list every soap opera in the order of which it premiered. Of course, that was long before Passions and that General Hospital spin off that didn't last very long.
8. When I was 4, I wanted to be a priest (no, not a rabbi, a priest--a CATHOLIC priest. Yes, I knew you had to be male to be a priest, but I figured it was a stupid rule so it certainly didn't apply to me. Which, I might add, should be the case with all stupid rules).
TRUE. I still vividly remember that conversation with my mother. I was in the bathtub and we were discussing what I wanted to be when I grew up. I have no clue why I wanted to be a priest, but I remember being very offended when my mother told me women couldn't be priests. FTR, The Reform Jewish movement first admitted women to the rabbinical seminary in the 60s. The Conservative movement did around 1980.
So, okay, how did you do? Did any of these really shock anyone?
Thursday, June 07, 2007
One of these things is not like the other....
I'm stealing this idea from Kamrin. One of these things is not true. Which one?
1. I once nursed a baby on the dance floor at a wedding while dancing (and no one knew).
2. On our first date, my ex (who was on probation at the time after spending time in jail for dealing) took me into NYC with a friend of his to buy a dime bag.
3. While I speak only 3 or 4 words of German, a paper of mine on breastfeeding was published (in German) in a national (Germany being the nation) magazine.
4. My father was 11 when my oldest brother was born.
5. One year, for Halloween, I went as dead Britney Spears (No, I'm not THAT young. I was in college at the time).
6. I took piano lessons for 11 years (and 3 months) and then broke my mother's heart when I decided I'd rather be the next free-spirited (sometimes dirty-mouthed) Tori Amos than a dignified classical musician confined to an orchestra.
7. When I was 13, I could not only name every single (daytime) soap opera that had ever been on the air, but I could put them in chronological order.
8. When I was 4, I wanted to be a priest (no, not a rabbi, a priest--a CATHOLIC priest. Yes, I knew you had to be male to be a priest, but I figured it was a stupid rule so it certainly didn't apply to me. Which, I might add, should be the case with all stupid rules).
1. I once nursed a baby on the dance floor at a wedding while dancing (and no one knew).
2. On our first date, my ex (who was on probation at the time after spending time in jail for dealing) took me into NYC with a friend of his to buy a dime bag.
3. While I speak only 3 or 4 words of German, a paper of mine on breastfeeding was published (in German) in a national (Germany being the nation) magazine.
4. My father was 11 when my oldest brother was born.
5. One year, for Halloween, I went as dead Britney Spears (No, I'm not THAT young. I was in college at the time).
6. I took piano lessons for 11 years (and 3 months) and then broke my mother's heart when I decided I'd rather be the next free-spirited (sometimes dirty-mouthed) Tori Amos than a dignified classical musician confined to an orchestra.
7. When I was 13, I could not only name every single (daytime) soap opera that had ever been on the air, but I could put them in chronological order.
8. When I was 4, I wanted to be a priest (no, not a rabbi, a priest--a CATHOLIC priest. Yes, I knew you had to be male to be a priest, but I figured it was a stupid rule so it certainly didn't apply to me. Which, I might add, should be the case with all stupid rules).
Monday, June 04, 2007
Straight, not narrow.
I wanted to blog about a surprising conversation I had at the gym on Friday. Before I did that, though, I wandered over to Kamrin's and saw that apparently Friday was "Blogging for LGBT Families."
Whoops, I missed that, but my post is related, so I'll just be a little late to the party. Like Kamrin, ours is not a LGBT family, but as Hillel said, "If I'm not for myself, who will be for me? If I'm only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?" I'm a firm believer that Family=Love. I don't care to put limits on that. I feel the same way about marriage, but that's another rant for another day (Since when does the phrase "family values" mean denying someone else the right to be a family?).
Most of my friends at the gym are Conservative. Many are Christian Conservatives. Don't ask because even I don't know how I do it. Some days, I can't.
Friday, though, one friend really surprised me. Ellen is usually on t.v. there while we work out. One of my friends turned to me and said something like, "I love her. She's awesome. I hated that her other show was cancelled. People were pissed off because she's gay. It was funny. Who cares?"
No, that's not a mind-blowing conversation. We didn't uncover the mystery of life or anything of the sort. But I'm used to homeschool groups that send out a call to arms insisting people gather at the capitol in an effort to "save" marriage (because as our divorce rates show, we heterosexuals have done such a FABULOUS job). I'm used to reading the posts to those lists about how evil the school systems are for teaching tolerance. I'm used to reading calls for a boycott of Wal-Mart because they made one measely donation to a group that supports all families (a number of Christian groups initiated an influx of mail that made Wal-Mart vow never to do that again). True, the women at the gym aren't part of that scene, still, I was surprised to hear such a comment.
Sometimes, people can see through the rhetoric. Sometimes, people can tune out the fear-mongers. Sometimes, we really can all get along. And sometimes, I have to smile quietly to myself.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Arguing Semantics:
Can/Can't
I read an article yesterday about how the idea we're taught from infancy that, "We can do anything" is a sham and sets us up for failure. The author pointed out that we need to recognize our limits. When we believe we can do anything and then we aren't able to do something, we feel as though we failed. In truth, our bodies simply may not have been capable of that task. So we need to re-examine that, "Can we fix it? Yes we can," idea.
There's nothing my kids can't do. I don't let them use the word "Can't." I've told the girls from the time they were about 2 that there's nothing they can't do with help. If they're having a difficult time with something, they are not allowed to say, "I can't do it." They are to ask for help.
I agree about being realistic in our expectations (although, sometimes, I think our expectations fall short of our capabilities). So after reading that article, there was a moment where I worried about my insistence that the kids not use the word, "Can't." I'm sticking with it, though because I've never told them they have no limits (although I try to encourage healthy well-rounded limits.). I just encourage them to ask for help rather than throwing up their hands and refusing to try.
There's nothing my kids can't do. I don't let them use the word "Can't." I've told the girls from the time they were about 2 that there's nothing they can't do with help. If they're having a difficult time with something, they are not allowed to say, "I can't do it." They are to ask for help.
I agree about being realistic in our expectations (although, sometimes, I think our expectations fall short of our capabilities). So after reading that article, there was a moment where I worried about my insistence that the kids not use the word, "Can't." I'm sticking with it, though because I've never told them they have no limits (although I try to encourage healthy well-rounded limits.). I just encourage them to ask for help rather than throwing up their hands and refusing to try.
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