My Son and My Daughter

My son is a ray of sunshine.  He energizes, he livens.  He brings cheerful zest for life wherever he goes.  His spirit is the love of life, the love of adventure, the spark of joy at every new discovery.  My Joy with him is talking, teaching, running, jumping, playing, reading, exploring.  I watch with wonder at the new things he learns at such a rapid pace.  My son is a verb.  He does everything he can think of.  He climbs, he swims, he digs, he searches, he finds.  My son is linguistic expression.  He wants to name everything, he wants to discuss everything.  My son is the unanswerable question.  He asks, "why", "what is this", "what are you doing", "where did it go", "what time is it", "what day is it", "can we..." he is not satisfied with one answer.  He either keeps asking the same question or changes the question.  He is curiosity and imagination.  I run after him, because he goes wherever his Will takes him.  He listens to his own desire for exploration much more than he listens to me.  Together, we celebrate a love of learning, a love of adventure.  I delight in his zest for life.  He is my son, the strong gale, the race car, the arrow.

My daughter is the warm memory of spring in the cold of winter.  Her sleepy, soft little arms enfold me.  She is a sweet hug, she is a joyful, bright smile, she is an enchanting, slobbery, baby kiss on my cheek.  Her spirit is Love and kindness, the beautiful comfort of cuddling together, just sitting and snuggling and being.  My Joy with her is her big brown eyes full of unrestrained love and happiness, the way she loves when I run my fingers through her soft brown curls, her strong, soft arms, her strong, soft belly, her ticklish neck and chubby legs.  Her strong, soft back that I massage when she is sleepy.  Strong and soft and joyful.  That is my daughter.  Memorable moments with my daughter are wordless, often silent.  We are.  We are together.  My daughter is not a verb; she just Is.  Her body and eyes hold all the meaning in the world.  Together, we celebrate Life, and Love, in its moments of rest.  My daughter is the power of Laughter.  When she laughs, the whole world laughs.  And she laughs at everything, smiles at everybody.  I delight in her love of life.  She is my daughter, the bubbly brook, the vast blue sky, sunlight alighting on the rocks.

I'm Back!

No, I haven't forgotten about you, little blog, even though I haven't been updating you in... well, years.  My thoughts have not been coherent enough to warrant scribblings and musings that I could post publicly.  However, recently an event shook our family- the untimely death of my stepchildren's mother.  My stepchildren are wonderful, mature, and loving.  I have known them since they were 5 and 6, and they are now 11 and 13.  And although I admit that my dream was to have them move up here and become part of the family, I think it's obvious to say I didn't want it to happen like this.  I didn't know their mother, but I know them.  I didn't know anything about her pain and struggle with cancer for the past year and a half, but I know how it has affected her children.  I don't know anything about losing a loved one as close to me as a parent, but my own mother has struggled with cancer for this past year and I know that cancer is an enemy to all of us.  As divided as we all were, my heart goes out to those innocent children who have lost their mother, and also to her parents who have lost a daughter, her siblings who lost a sister, friends and family who lost a loved one.  As much as I know it's an impossibility, I don't want to be divided anymore.  I want to be united in our love for these kids.  It pisses me off that there is still so much bad blood and tension.  We should be working together for the good of these wonderful kids.  We should be banding together in a common fight against cancer.  We should be celebrating the life that she brought into this world, instead of lashing out at each other.

I know it will be a hard road to healing, but I just want to say that I am lucky to have these children in my life, and I will do my best to help them in any way I can.  My family grew from 4 to 6 two weeks ago, and I can't help feeling very protective and nurturing right now, even through my aggravation and stress.  It's a difficult time, but we are in it together.

Baby! :)

Well, after long months of waiting, my daughter is finally here! She made her arrival on the 28 of January, 2 days before her due date.

This is what happened:

I was having contractions sporadically all day on the 27th, and really, really wanted this baby OUT (i was 39 weeks 4 days) so i walked, masturbated, did nipple stimulation, and then had sex with my husband. :) it worked (lol) and I started having intense contractions after the sex that were 2 minutes apart so we went to the hospital. :)

Since I had Group B Strep, they tried to get me hooked up to an IV for antibiotics. However, I have really small veins and they had to stick a needle in 4 different places before they were finally able to get an IV going. During this time I started active labor, so I was VERY uncomfortable to say the least! I was in heaven when they finally let me get out of the bed and walk around.

I wanted to have a natural birth, and the nurse was a wonderful labor coach. The contractions I felt were unlike those with my first child (which were extremely painful and unproductive), I was actually doing really well... but i was SO TIRED and felt sick. The nurses gave me a peppermint strip to put on my clothes and that helped a lot with the nausea, although I was still shaking and barely holding up. AND cervix checks hurt more than anything... I actually took a swing at my doctor (oops) when she was checking me (snicker)... then the contractions got nasty and unproductive :( I was stuck at 7 cm, so I got an epidural and GETTING it was hell... BUT when it took, it was heaven and I could finally sleep, although I was still shaking.

I woke up and they told me I was complete but they let me labor down for a long time because I didn't want to have a 3rd degree tear like with my first, and I wanted my epidural to wear off enough that I could feel when to push. It went so well... I pushed my lovely little girl out in 15 minutes (but still ended up with a 2nd degree tear, grrr). I could feel pressure but not pain :) They got a mirror and let me see my baby crowning... it was such a positive experience. And the moment I pushed her out they gave me my little baby girl and she was just so precious, I held her for a long time and even breastfed her before they finally took her away to get her APGAR scores. she weighed 6 lbs 14 oz and 20 inches long. She has a full head of dark hair :) and she is so cuddly!

She is so tiny and beautiful and soft... I love her sooo much :) and the recovery isn't horrible. I don't feel like I've been hit by a mack truck like with my son, although I'm so so sore.

I'll post pictures soon :)

Baby Fuzzy Brain

I apologize to my few regular readers. Lately, I just can't seem to form a coherent thought. I spend more and more time staring off into space while my toddler destroys something fundamentally important. I spend 20 minutes looking for my purse before remembering that it's in my hand. I walk into a room and don't remember why, but while I'm at it, that reminds me to hang up those shelves I bought 2 months ago and never took care of. Then I walk out the door without doing that, either.

I have a severe case of "impending baby brain." Right now, I can't seem to focus on much of anything. So I apologize, because while I would love to be able to read your blogs and comment, my brain has turned into a mushed banana and focusing on reading something other than light comedic dialog has proven futile again and again. I just keep staring at the same paragraph and wondering why my feet are cold? Oh yes, because I never put my slippers on this morning. Silly me. :)

On the plus side, the husband, the toddler, the baby-to-be, and I are doing just fine. The toddler is over the 95th percentile for height, which means he's really freakin' tall. He can reach just about anything including the ceramic plate I just ate from that I really don't want to break, the computer keyboard, the library books that I stupidly left on the table, etc... The husband is cussing out his workplace again, which is completely normal... the baby-to-be has found my cervix and seems to know that there's a door there somewhere so she's trying to beat it down (ow)... and I am staring at a cartoon person on the front of a book and thinking "if only I could remember what I was going to do 5 minutes ago."

Oh yeah. I was going to make a list. Sometime in the next 2 months I might actually get it done. :)

What You Think When You're Pregnant

This is what's going through a pregnant woman's mind, in case you wanted to know...

Week 4: My period is a day late, am I pregnant?

Week 5: Oh my God I'm pregnant!!!

Week 8: Oh my God I'm sick to my stomach... what the hell is this baby doing to me?

Week 10: AAAAH I have baby poisoning. Yep, "baby poisoning" is the right word to use.

Week 11: Oh this nice cold toilet bowl feels good against my face...

Week 12: Why is my husband/family/boyfriend such an IDIOT? He left the toilet seat up again and now I want to punch his face in!

Week 13: I never want to eat another saltine cracker EVER again.

Week 15: The morning sickness is gone... oh no! Am I miscarrying?

Week 17: Wait, what happened to the ice cream? Did I really eat it ALL yesterday?

Week 18: Oh no, I can't feel any kicks yet! Is my baby alive? What is wrong with me?

Week 20 (or whenever you got your ultrasound): Oh my God! There s/he is! My baby is so cute!

Week 21: I'm only halfway done???

Week 22: Oh this picture of a kitty is so cute. *Starts bawling*

Week 23: It's seriously only been another week? When am I going to be DONE?

Week 24: OK my baby might survive if it's born now, I really am going to be a mom!

Week 25: What if I'm not a good mom? What if my baby grows up to hate me? What if I can't handle having a child?

Week 26: Seriously, the morning sickness is back??? WTF?

Week 27: Oh wow I'm SO tired.

Week 28: Where did I leave my car keys? Oh well it's too much work to find them, I'm going back to bed.

Week 29: AM I DONE YET???

Week 30: Only 10 more weeks. Am I a bad mom for thinking that I just want him/her to be born now?

Week 31: OMG the baby is almost here and his/her room isn't finished yet! What am I going to do, I only have 30 onesies and my hospital bag isn't even packed yet!

Week 32: OK baby, STOP kicking my ribs now, I'm going to have broken ribs because of you...

Week 33: Is this a contraction?

Week 34: What will labor be like? Can I handle it? I can't even put on my own socks!

Week 35: OK this baby can really come out anytime now...

Week 37: Yay full term! Time to birth this baby...

Week 38: It's only been a week? Come on out baby!

Week 39: I wonder if it's too soon to drink castor oil? Eat spicy foods? Have lots of sex?

Week 40: OK baby GET OUT! Yes, please strip my membranes!

2 hours later: Can I make another appointment today? I want my membranes stripped again, it didn't work the first time. I have to wait a whole week to do it again???

Week 41: Please? Mommy will buy you an XBox if you just get out now! I wonder if it's a crime to break your own water...

Week 42: What do you want from me?? A pony? I'll buy you a pony, a rocketship, anything you want just get OUT!

Early labor: Is this it? OMG I need to get to the hospital pronto!

Active labor: Come on baby just get out...

Transition: I can't do this!!!

Seeing baby: WOW, s/he's so tiny, didn't I just give birth to a train?

2 weeks later: OK baby, you can get back in the womb now, you were quieter in there...

Sock Diaper Wipes?

A couple of days ago I went through all our socks (yes the WHOLE tote of them!) and got out the holey ones to throw away.

Only, instead of throwing them away, I cut them up into diaper wipes for the new baby.

Sounds like a BORING afternoon, but it gave me a feeling of accomplishment.

1. No longer would I have to wear holey socks! Yay!

2. No longer would 20+ holey socks clog up our already jumbled sock tote. (It's a sock tote, not a sock drawer, because we have too many socks to fit in a drawer.)

3. 20+ holey socks would NOT be clogging up space in the landfill. :) Your welcome, Mother Earth.

4. How many diaper wipes does a new baby go through in a week? Well... a lot! A. Your welcome again, Mother Earth, and B. Hooray for having diaper wipes that do not have a ton of chemicals, are free, and are re-usable.

Now to do the same thing with Husband's holey underwear.

Stay at Home Mom

I really dislike being dependent.

At age 12, I started really resenting the fact that I was so dependent on my parents. I wanted to be as independent as possible, but became surly over the fact that I couldn't drive, couldn't live on my own, couldn't be hired to work, etc... As a homeschooler, I was already pretty much in charge of my own education, or at least I wasn't being micromanaged when it came to school. That responsibility made me happy. I just wished I could be entrusted with more decisions in my own life. This attitude lasted all through high school up until I moved out of my parent's house.

Now, I'm facing the same sort of resentment, and I'm really trying not to let it get to me. I'm a stay-at-home mom, which means I'm depending on my husband to provide financially for me while he is depending on me to watch our son, farm, and house.

I love being a stay-at-home mom! I love the independence that comes from setting my own hours, work schedule, and pace. I love the feeling of accomplishment when I get a big project done despite a toddler running around and trying to ruin my efforts, and I love the flexibility of being able to take a trip to the grocery store or library on MY schedule. When I worked outside the home, I was miserable. I was micromanaged and I didn't get along well with my managers. I thought I did a good job and I certainly wasn't slacking, but I felt constantly watched, criticized, and judged. Often, I felt like expectations weren't clear and I therefore couldn't live up to them. Being a stay-at-home mom is a lot like homeschooling, I can get what I need to get done and not worry about the things that inevitably don't get done.

However, I really dislike the fact that I don't get paid for it! It rubs me the wrong way to have to ask my husband to pay for something. I hate asking for "his money" and I hate just taking "his money." And he hates it too! I know he feels like he has to constantly evaluate my purchases because he doesn't trust me to spend his money wisely. It's a big fat thorn in my dream job. And I'm not sure how to fix it, either. Hopefully, the farm will become prosperous enough to provide me with a little money of my own. Or, after the kids have grown a little, I could get a part time job or a home-based business. Or, my husband could just learn to TRUST me with OUR money... but I'm not sure if that will ever happen.