Five Things

A couple of things:

1) We are moving in 13 days.

2) I think that the best television shows of all time are: 1. Gilmore Girls, 2. Friday Night Lights, and 3. Freaks and Geeks, with an honorable mention going out to Everwood.

3) When people choose to birth in a hospital "just in case something goes wrong", that makes me wonder why we don't spend our entire lives in a hospital "just in case something goes wrong." (I think I will expand on this thought in a longer post someday. Please remind me to do so.)

4) We have made $1,380 selling all of our stuff so far. We still need to sell our bed.

5) This picture:

My Kids Today

This is what my children looked like today:

Life is in the Journey

Sometimes people say to me, "Oh, I bet you can't wait for Vernon to be done with school. That will be such a relief."

I don't really see it like that. To me, I have enjoyed every part of this journey. It doesn't really matter if Vern is in school, out of school, working as a schoolteacher, working as a chiropractor... whatever. It is all just a part of life and I have enjoyed seeing the journey unfold.

I haven't played "the waiting game" (waiting to get done with school, waiting to live somewhere else, waiting to get married, waiting to earn more money... in order for life to be better) since I was in high school when I dreamed of moving to California where I would meet River Phoenix and live happily ever after. Our eyes would meet as I was walking down Hollywood Boulevard, we would fall instantly in love, get married, start a family, and all my dreams would come true.

That is a game of my youth, and it is not worth living today.

I sometimes hear people say, "Oh, I am too old to go back to school. I would be 33 when I got done." (Or 42 or 57 or whatever). But here's the thing... you're going to be 33 anyway. So why not do what you want to do, no matter what, instead of getting hung up on numbers (financial numbers, age, etc)?

That's what we're doing, and it has been an excellent journey so far.

The Giggler Treatment

by Roddy Doyle
112 pages

I just HAVE to recommend this book to everybody in the universe. It is such a great children's book. So well-written. So funny. Talks about dog poop. What more could you want?

Ocean, age 7 - "The Giggler Treatment is a good book and it's about Gigglers putting poo on the path, but I can't tell you about the rest of the story because it's a really, really, really good story."

Ezra, age 4 - "I like the The Giggler Treatment because there's these guys Robbie, Jimmy, Kayla, Billy Jean and Mr. Mack. And Robbie and Jimmy always say, "Me head! Me toe! Me window! Me finger!"

Why Don't Friends With Kids Have Time?

There is this great article going around Facebook, from Carolyn Hax's Tell Me About It column in the Washington Post. It's called Why Don't Friends With Kids Have Time.

Click on the link to read it in its entirety and then come back here.

Done?

Okay. Good.

If you're lying to me and were too lazy to read the entire thing (hey, I've been there, done that), I'll summarize: A lady writes into the advice column and asks Why doesn't my friend with kids have time for me anymore?

And columnist Carolyn Hax responds with possibly the best six paragraphs ever written in the history of the universe:

When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head. 

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15. 

It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier. 

It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense. 

It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything -- language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything. 

It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends, or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand or keep your snit to yourself. 

Complaining About Complaining

I hate it when I complain. I really don't like it when I get like that. I think part of my problem is that I have such high ideals, expectations... especially of myself.

We all know that I got my period back on July 6, so, theoretically, I should not be having PMS right now, and I really should have been downright pleasant two days ago because that's when I *should have* been ovulating (and I'm always pleasant when I'm ovulating). But I don't know what the hell my cycle is doing right now anyway because I have seen no signs or signals of ovulation. And no, I'm not pregnant, because we haven't even had sex since I've gotten my period BECAUSE I'm trying to figure my cycle out (which should give Vernon himself a reason to write his own It's Not Fair... column, right?).

I remember starting this blog, the first post I wrote was about Losing Myself... and now I feel like I'm there again. (A little bit. On certain days.)

So, I'm still trying to figure everything out, but here are some things I think I can do that might help get me back on track:

1) Exercise more. I have actually been kind of consciously avoiding exercise because my body burns a lot of calories when I'm breastfeeding, and I didn't want to burn any more and put it in starvation mode. And I actually kind of like to exercise (except for when I don't). But if I were to exercise, I would have to eat a lot more protein, and I'm already not getting enough as it is. Which brings me to my second point...

2) Eat more protein. And, also, just eat better in general ALL THE TIME. I've noticed that I feel worse on days after a potluck (at a Mom's Night Out or a Blessingway or whatever have you)... and I think the reason for this is because, like with all of a sudden being sensitive to artificial scents, I have also become sensitive to food chemicals, additives, refined sugar, etc. This sensitivity seems to have occurred since I've been "living clean" as opposed to 15 years ago when I was living off of Pizza Rolls, french fries, and going into Bed, Bath, and Beyond just to smother my hands with all their lotion samples.

3) Read the Bible.

4) Set goals.

5) Get laid.

There. That's all I've got.

The thing is, I don't really feel like doing any of them.

And, as a side note because I don't know where else this fits in: I think that I've been fooling myself in thinking that this move is not affecting my emotional well being in some way. I mean, I'll be moving away from some of the best friends that I've ever had. How can that NOT affect me?

Also, as another side note: Vernon really is a wonderful husband and he's been really nice to me today.

Brazil's New Breastfeeding Ad

Look at all aspects of the photo - it may not be what it initially appears to be.

 

It's Not Fair...

It's not fair that my kids say, "Mommy, can you get me..." instead of "Daddy..."

It's not fair that when Peace poops and Vernon is holding her, he comes up to me and says, "Peace pooped," and I end up changing the diaper. When I'm holding Peace and she poops, I never go up to Vernon to tell him that she pooped and expect him to change it.

It's not fair that when I'm sick, I still have to spend the day watching kids, whereas, when Vern is sick, he gets to stay home by himself all day sleeping and watching Harry Potter.

It's not fair that every time I sit down somebody wants to suck on my nipples.

It's not fair that the one time I ask Vern to make supper for us, it feels like I'm putting him out, but I make meals for us all the time and nobody cares.

It's not fair that I have to schedule a time to get a shower in, and it is just assumed that Vernon can do it whenever the hell he feels like it.

It's not fair that I have to pick up most of the time because my threshold for clutter is lower than his.

It's not fair that it is assumed that I am the one in charge of planning any and all of our kids' birthday parties.

It's not fair that I am doing 50 million things for the kids already, but I also have to remember and remind Vernon to do simple things because otherwise he forgets.

It's not fair that when Vernon comes home, Peace's smiles and reaches to be held by him, but when I come home, she looks at me and cries because she remembers that she is not with me.

It's not fair that I have to ask Vernon to do things ("Vernon, could you do the dishes?" "Vernon, could you wash the diapers?" "Vernon?" "Vernon?" "Vernon?"), because I need help, but yet all that asking makes me seem like a nagging wife and I don't know WANT to be a nagging wife, but I don't know how else to do it.

The standard. It's doubled. I get that.

And that's not fair either.

Real Mothers

I'm reading Jodi Picoult's latest novel, House Rules, and here is a lovely excerpt that I really connected with after a rough day this past weekend:

Real mothers wonder why experts who write for Parents and Good Housekeeping seem to have their acts together all the time when they themselves can barely keep their heads above the stormy seas of parenthood.

Real mothers don't just listen with humble embarrassment to the elderly lady who offers unsolicited advice in the checkout line when a child is throwing a tantrum. We take the child, dump him in the lady's care, and say, "Great. Maybe you can do a better job."

Real mothers admit it is easier to fail at this job than to succeed.

If parenting is the box of raisin bran, then real mothers know the ratio of flakes to fun is severely imbalanced. For every moment that your child confides in you, or tells you he loves you, or does something unprompted to protect his brother that you happen to witness, there are many more moments of chaos, error, and self-doubt.

Real mothers may not speak the heresy, but they sometimes secretly wish they'd chosen something for breakfast other than this endless cereal.

Rest easy, real mothers. The very fact that you worry about being a good mom means that you already are one.

Inception

4.75 out of 5 stars

I don't think anybody comes to this blog to read my movie reviews, but I like to write them anyway.

Actually, they aren't so much movie reviews inasmuch as they are just my experience seeing the movie.

Take the previews, for example. I can't believe the new Wall Street isn't out yet. I've been staring at the movie poster at the MOA for over six months now, and I guess I assumed it had been released already. But it hasn't! Most the previews looked pretty insipid (I mean, Tron, really?), but there is one movie coming out about the making of Facebook called The Social Network that looks pretty amazing. I know, who would have thought that a movie about the making of Facebook would look interesting, but it does! One of the main reasons for this is because it stars Jesse Eisenberg, who hasn't made a bad movie yet (please see The Squid and the Whale, Adventureland, and Zombieland for proof of this).

Anywho, so I don't really want to say too much about Inception because I don't want to ruin anything for anybody, but I do want to say this: Go see it.

There. That's my review.

Go see Inception.

Enough said.

How We Spent Peace's Birthday

Today, our beloved Peace turned one. (For those of you who are feeling nostalgic and want to revisit the most hilarious and heartwarming birth story ever told, go here.)

Here is how we spent our day.

6:59 am - Peace wakes up and the kids give her an old toy flute of theirs (which is one of the only toys they have left which I haven't sold or given away).

12:05 pm

12:09 pm

2:06 pm - Vernon made this delicious, healthy cake for the party.

But Ocean wanted to make a cake that Peace could eat, so she made this:

It had avocados, sweet potatoes, peas, and carrots in it.

2:41 pm

2:44 pm

Let me draw attention to two things in this picture, 1) Ezra's outfit. Good stuff, huh? 2) How Ezra is sticking out his tongue while he concentrates on hitting the ball.

Now, look at what his father is doing with his tongue.

3:42 pm

3:43 pm

3:44 pm

3:45 pm

3:47 pm

3:49 pm

Happy birthday, Peace!

Then, at 4:40 pm, Vern and I went to the movie Inception which was AMAZING and something that everyone in the world should see. I will write about it tomorrow.

We left the kids with my mom and I was telling my mom all sorts of tips about what to do with Peace, how to get her to sleep, etc. And she's smiling at me and says, "You act like I've never taken care of a baby before." And I'm, like, "You've never taken care of this one."

But, apparently, my mom does know what she is doing because all things went swimmingly, and I really shouldn't be so mean to her on this blog anymore. I love you, Mom!

Inception and Scents

T minus one more day until the opening of INCEPTION. T minus two days until I attempt to go see it. My mother will be coming down for Peace's birthday and she will attempt to babysit.

Here is an e-mail I wrote to my mother today:

I'm sorry to be a prick about this, but when you come here to visit, could you please not wear any perfumes or body lotions or any other scents of yours? I have found that I am very sensitive to this, so it would just be helpful if I didn't have to experience it. Thank you.

Isn't this just incredibly pretentious and high-maintenance of me, asking somebody to alter their lifestyle because I don't like to be around it?

But, seriously, it really is one of the biggest pet peeves for me. I can't stand it when people smell like stuff. I can't stand Glade Plug-Ins. I can't stand when people hold my baby and then my baby comes back smelling like something atrocious. Ugh.

So, that's it for today kids. (It is also T minus two days until Peace's first birthday. Very exciting.)

Sex on a Bed?

I was thinking about how we will be selling our bed and living on an air mattress for the 4-1/2 months that we are in Colorado, and I was thinking about how that will be a long time to go without having sex on a bed.

But then I started thinking about how we NEVER have sex on the bed anyway. (Peace is always sleeping there, and we absolutely, 100% of the time have sex while she is asleep... unless she wakes up in the middle of it, which then entails this weird do we finish now really quickly thing, or do we get her back to sleep and come back to it.)

Anyway, my point is that I can't even remember the last time we had sex on a bed, that is how long it's been.

So, in closing, I guess we really won't be missing out on much without having a bed in Colorado that we aren't already missing out on already.

Astra Taylor on Unschooling

"And when we weren't inspired to do anything -- which was often -- we were allowed to do nothing." - filmmaker and unschooler Astra Taylor

Burlington, Vermont?

I have spent the last couple of days organizing everything we own, trying to sell it. We are going to sell basically everything we own and move to Colorado with only clothes, kitchen supplies, and some toys (and maybe the vacuum cleaner?).

So, I've been thinking a bit more about us moving away from here and what that means to us (for those of you not in the know, we are currently living in the Minneapolis, MN area).

*Here's a summary of what will be happening before I go on with this story: Vern will be spending his last trimester of chiropractic college studying under a doctor in a suburb of Denver. We will be moving there from mid-August until late December. After that, Vern will have graduated, and he is going to go on to do some additional chiropractic business training for 6 months (or longer?) in either Naples, FL or (possibly) a suburb of Chicago. And that will be from January through June of 2011. After that, we'll have to figure out where to set up shop and live (theoretically, for a very long time).*


The plan had always been that we would not come back to Minnesota (and that is still the plan, for the most part). I am not entirely in love with a city this size (too big), nor with its suburbs (too homogeneous), BUT (and this is a big BUT), I have made myself a part of a parenting (as well as birth as well as food) community here that is truly amazing and inspiring.

Awhile ago, I did a lot of research on other places we could possibly move (places that met my criteria: smaller in size, had a "crunchiness" factor, good food sources, fours seasons, homeschooling groups, etc.) and we (kind of) settled upon Burlington, Vermont. (Note: I also have a thing for quaint New England towns). And Vernon even ended up being okay with it (he used to have a thing about not wanting to live where it's cold, but that doesn't seem to be an issue anymore).

So, anyway, Vernon recently got an e-mail from his chiropractic business training group saying that everybody would need to narrow down their locations because they are going to need to start focusing on things like site selection, marketing, and stuff like that when they get to their training in January. So, we're both, like, "I guess we'll put Burlington, Vermont then?" With a big question mark in our voices because it still seems just so random (even though I put a lot of research into it) and final.

But here is what I am thinking about moving back here (which is still kind of an option, but not really): This community that we have all so wonderfully created... it won't exist in five years the way that it does now. (I mean, sure, it will still exist... but it will be with The Next Generation and not the original cast members.) If my friends don't keep procreating, in five years time, all of their kids will be school-aged. Therefore, they will no longer be coming to playgroups nor be as central a part of "the community" as they once were anyway. They will enter a different stage in their parenting life (as will I) that doesn't include a lot of mommies-sitting-at-the-playground bonding time.

So, I've decided that we could just start over somewhere else since things are going to change here anyway.

We might as well. We're selling all our stuff anyway.

Like a Pirate

This is what I looked like one year ago this week:

And this is what I look like today:

(Like a pirate... with a baby.)

Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work

3.91 out of 5 stars

So, I finally got out of the house by myself again. It's been since April 3, the day I went and bought those five shirts at Sears for $1.96. Actually, I should take that back... I've gone out to Mom's Night Outs and Blessingways, but this is the first time I've had a date with myself since April 3.

I love having dates with myself. We always have such interesting conversations.

Yesterday, I went to the documentary Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work. I've always loved going to movies by myself. Sitting in the silence of the theater before the movie is about to begin, breathing in the scent of the theater... When I was a kid, my parents used to drop me off at a movie theater and I would watch movies all by myself and it was lovely (movies like Adventures in Babysitting and Toy Soldiers and Some Kind of Wonderful filled my youth, among others). If it was an R-rated movie, my dad would just stand behind me and nod his head that it was okay that I go in. It was delicious.

Back when I used to see movies on a regular basis, I would play this game with myself (and later with Vernon, although he rarely ever competed) where I would try to name the preview as quickly as possible. Like, I could name the trailer literally within seconds of seeing it on the screen. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I was that THAT amazing. A true talent, yes I was.

So, anyway, I'd been wanting to see this Joan Rivers documentary because it is getting awesome reviews and I find Joan Rivers to be a most interesting human being. I love how honest she is. I love how real she is (this, despite the fact that she has a plastic face). The movie was quite good and very well done. Joan Rivers is strangely vulnerable and sensitive, and at the same time, cutting and brash. The movie did a good job of reflecting all of that, and was interspersed with stand up, interviews, and clippets of her daily life.

I love looking at the lives of people in general, no matter who it is. Whether it is reading a biography on Joe Dimaggio, or that one by Joyce Maynard (J.D. Salinger's muse, don't ask me how I ended up reading that one), or watching documentaries like Capturing the Friedmans, Spellbound, Hoop Dreams, or that four-hour Frederick Wiseman thing on the citizens of Belfast, Maine, or watching the lives evolve of the people around me.

People are interesting. No matter who they are. No matter where they are. Everybody has a fascinating life.

There are no ordinary moments.

"Why do women think that they need to learn how to cook when they get married? So their husbands can say to the hooker, 'My wife makes a delicious cake'?" - Joan Rivers

I Got My Period Back

I got my period back the other day. (And, no, it doesn't bother me that I'm writing about this on here because I have already crossed THAT LINE many, many times already, dear readers. See previous posts from the inception of this blog until present.)

Getting my period back is my body's way of telling me that it is ready to have a baby again (if I want that, which I don't... I'm just saying). This is the soonest that I have gotten my cycle back after birth, and I was not expecting it. With Ocean, it lasted until 14 months. With Ezra, it was 22 months.

It is my body's way of telling me that Peace is nursing less and not needing me *as much*. It is a sign that her babyhood is ending.

Peace is almost a year old. Pretty soon, Peace will be walking. She is getting close. And I suppose I will eventually have to put shoes on her feet for the first time in her life, and that makes me sad too. So many changes. She is growing up, and I'm kind of sad about this because I feel like I've missed out on her babyhood. It all went by so fast, and I was in such a state of distraction and disarray most of the time that I didn't even notice or appreciate the majority of it.

I feel like I've screwed up on this motherhood thing a bit for the better part of Peace's life. This has been a hard year (for whatever reasons... the postpartum stuff, the relational stuff, whatever), and I have done more yelling and been more stressed out at my kids than I care to admit to.

Peace isn't even *the hard one* anymore. It's the other two... the yelling at each other, the fighting with each other. I recognize that they are a reflection of me (especially Ocean, the way she talks and the words she uses sound like they could be coming out of my mouth, and it is disturbing to be faced with that), but I don't know how to change myself so that they will reflect a better version of who I am. If I could just do that, everything would be better. Instead, it is a vicious cycle and continues as it is.

I feel like I could be doing better. I feel like I should be doing better. I feel like Peace deserves that.

I'm sorry. This is probably just the menstrual blood talking. I'll go now.

Taboo Winner...

Out of 14 entries to the TABOO CONTEST, there were 3 of you (Barbara, Mike, and Carol) who got 9 of the 10 clues correct. (Most of the rest of you got 6 or 7 correct.)

The correct answers were:

1. Billy the Kid
2. Pastrami
3. Loch Ness Monster
4. Jackpot
5. Loitering
6. Elizabeth Taylor
7. Usher
8. Arena
9. Bayou
10. Hearse

Mike missed #8 and guessed Giants Stadium. Carol missed #8 as well and guessed Parthenon.

I am going to declare Barbara the winner because of this fact... She missed #2, guessed Pepperoni, but wrote in parenthesis: "I wanted to say pastrami, but that ain't spicy." I've just been schooled, ladies and gentlemen, and, therefore, Barbara is the winner.

Congratulations Barbara!

NIP = Nursing In Public

Welcome to the July 2010 Carnival of Nursing in Public

This post was written for inclusion in the Carnival of Nursing in Public hosted by Dionna and Paige at NursingFreedom.org. All week, July 5-9, we will be featuring articles and posts about nursing in public ("NIP"). See the bottom of this post for more information.

About two months ago, I posted this Nursing Etiquette video up on YouTube (that has since gone on to get over 13,000 hits).

And I didn't know what NIP was.

People started making comments on the video, used the term "NIP", and I wondered what the hell they were talking about.

Nursing In Public. It stands for Nursing In Public, people.

Maybe I didn't realize there was a term for it, because why should there be a term for it?

But I get it. Some people (like Kim Kardashian, who, ironically, shows more breast in her ordinary outfits than most women expose while breastfeeding) are not comfortable with it. But that is also a reason why it should be done more. So that people WILL get comfortable with it.

We can change society one breast at a time, people. One breast at a time.

(That's what she said.)




Welcome to the Carnival of Nursing in Public


Please join us all week, July 5-9, as we celebrate and support breastfeeding mothers. And visit NursingFreedom.org any time to connect with other breastfeeding supporters, learn more about your legal right to nurse in public, and read (and contribute!) articles about breastfeeding and N.I.P.


Do you support breastfeeding in public? Grab this badge for your blog or website to show your support and encourage others to educate themselves about the benefits of breastfeeding and the rights of breastfeeding mothers and children.

<center><a href="http://www.nursingfreedom.org/p/carnival-of-nursing-in-public.html" title="Carnival of Nursing in Public"><img src="http://www.babydustdiaries.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/inip1.png" alt="Art by Erika Hastings at http://mudspice.wordpress.com/" border="0"></a></center>

This post is just one of many being featured as part of the Carnival of Nursing in Public. Please visit our other writers each day of the Carnival. Click on the links below to see each day’s posts - new articles will be posted on the following days:

July 5 - Making Breastfeeding the Norm: Creating a Culture of Breastfeeding in a Hyper-Sexualized World

July 6 – Supporting Breastfeeding Mothers: the New, the Experienced, and the Mothers of More Than One Nursing Child

July 7 – Creating a Supportive Network: Your Stories and Celebrations of N.I.P.

July 8 – Breastfeeding: International and Religious Perspectives

July 9 – Your Legal Right to Nurse in Public, and How to Respond to Anyone Who Questions It

Shoes

I was walking around the shoe section in Target with my husband and baby Peace looking for a new pair of sandals yesterday. I commented on how it was funny that most women actually enjoy shoe shopping (I don't).

So, my husband says to Peace, "And someday, you'll have a closet full of shoe just like your mother."

Ha ha ha.

Just a reminder that today is your last day to enter THE CONTEST. The winner will be announced tomorrow.

Best. Photograph. Ever.

I took this tandem-nursing picture at a recent photo shoot, and I must admit that it is one of the best pictures I have ever taken in the entire history of my life. I absolutely adore it. Isn't it wonderful?