Heels

I've Moved!

2010-02-27T16:47:00.000-08:00

Because of various reasons, including the fact that Blogger no longer supports FTP, I have moved. To update your RSS feed, go to my new page or directly to my new RSS feed http://heels.crumpled.com/?feed=rss2

Come see my pretty new place! It's shiny.

I Should Memorize My License Plate

2010-02-12T19:51:00.000-08:00

Cole is sick, Rowan is sick, I am sick.

After spending far longer than anticipated at Promptcare this afternoon(because I am dumb and never learn that Promptcare is everything BUT), I went to the grocery store to get the prescription filled for Cole's possible Strep/definite double ear infection with secondary symptoms. I had to wait 20 minutes for it to be filled, all while Rowan, though sick, charmed the pants off of everyone in a 20 foot radius and Cole shivered in my sweater (which I had only worn to cover the fact that I am basically wearing stretched-out yoga pants and a t-shirt today). I then had to wait in another hideously long line to pay for a few "essential" groceries. By the time I got out to the car, opened the back, and started to load in groceries, it was shocking that I noticed anything wrong at all.

The first thing I noticed was that it looked a lot cleaner than my car. Then I noticed that there were two teenage girls in the front seat. It was only then that it dawned on me that I had opened the back of someone else's car.

I babbled something about being sorry and that I had the exact same car and then slammed the door and bolted.

If anything can be said in my defense, it is that it was the exact same make, model, year, and color as my car, parked in the same row, and only a couple cars from my own. Also, there was a very large pickup truck that was blocking me from seeing my car.

All I keep thinking about, though, is what those poor girls were thinking when the frazzled mother in yoga pants toting the two coughing kids was doing loading her gingerale in the back of their car.

Beanie Baby

2010-01-11T14:57:00.000-08:00

What do you do with a (nearly) 6 month-old baby all day when you are also supposed to be working? Riddle me THAT, Batman. (Batman has, so far, been useless in this respect).

Though Rowan is my second child, this is my first go-round with actually being a completely full-time mom. Cole was already in daycare by the time he was 4 months old, and I went back to work full-time when he was only 9 WEEKS old, all of which is really painful and hard to believe to this day. The point is that I only had to entertain him on nights and weekends, which I was more than happy to do, given that I had to work at all other times and he was a wonderful break from that.

But now, I am still working from home about 20 hours/week and Rowan is with me every second of every day, and I mean EVERY. I can barely put this chick down without her pitching a fit, and I love her to bits and don't want to overly distress her (figuring that being a teenage girl someday is going to be distressing enough for both of us). I can't get housework done, I can't get work-work done. I'd quit and just be free to be with her, but I can't afford to do that and have my house. She hates the swing, she hates the bed, she hates the floor, she hates sitting with me at the computer, she hates the bouncy-thing. I no longer have arms. I no longer have much of anything except this baby girl chewing on me all day and night.

I also haven't had a really good nights sleep in 6 months, which is, I'm sure, wreaking havoc with my perspective.

So what do YOU do? How do you entertain babies? Keep in mind that I can't really go anywhere because of the work thing, so taking walks and going to the store midday, and joining mother's groups are all right out.

(I'm fucked, aren't I?)

But as super-attached babies go, she is GLORIOUS. She is charming and lovely and sweet and full of beans. See? This proves it:

100% Beans.

She's 18 pounds of delicious beans, that one.

And she and her brother have formed a serious mutual-admiration society.

Me? I'm working when I can, am a brand-new member of the Arts Council Board, and have started working out, mostly at home and to the sound of screeching baby girl ("cause I'm not holding her, you see).

I'd rather be riding the elephants.

2009-12-14T09:29:00.000-08:00

Life is not a box of chocolates. Life is a tightrope. It's a high-wire balancing act without a net.

Lately, balance has been the theme. The attempt to perch precariously on the edge of everything that must be done has left me so very tired, not to mention the fact that I still don't get more than 2 hours of sleep at a time.

I balance wanting to quit my job, but wanting financial stability. Wanting to let Cole be a quirky little human with his own needs and desires with raising a spoiled tyrant. Wanting to give him discipline with not wanting to crush his spirit. Wanting to give Rowan the comfort she wants with wanting to have some time for myself. Wanting to be free with loving my family with painful ferocity. Wanting to leave the US with wanting to be near family and have my support network. Wanting to keep up with my responsibilities with wanting to fulfill difficult dreams. Wanting financial stability and responsibility with Oooh! SHINY!

I feel as if,at times, I have an auto-immune disorder of life- my life is fighting itself.

Which is not to say that I have a bad life, in any important way. Yes, there are things I'd like to change, but they are mostly things that I think will improve with time. Overall, though, I have a pretty amazing life, what with the family I love, the nice home, the food in my refrigerator, the presents under the tree, the loving husband, the brilliant children, the supportive family. It's just that I feel that, personally, I'm merely sustaining, not thriving. It takes so much energy just to maintain that I am tapped for anything greater. I'd like to do more than just live- I want to enjoy.

So this blog isn't the only thing that has suffered. I'm not exactly... productive these days, even though I have great aspirations of being. There are many, many things I'd LIKE to be doing, but they don't really add to the stability of this family very much, so they are put aside. One day...

These days, my time spent online is either to post a quick update to my status on my facebook page (which I have because it has proved to be the most reliable way of keeping in touch with everyone), or to investigate New Zealand immigration. I'm serious. I want to move to NZ so bad that it's kind of all I've wanted to talk about lately. I restrain myself. Mostly.

I know how lucky I am. I mean, I did look at my babies today:

(PS- these were not actually taken today, but I can guarantee that the children pictured are just as cute (or cuter) now as they were then.)

IT IS DECIDED.

2009-10-14T09:16:00.000-07:00

Cole WILL be attending the Waldorf school next year. I had been waffling (Mmmmm... waffles), but events of this morning solidified my position. In fact, it only took three fingers and one word. What three fingers and one word could do what years of deliberation could not, you ask? I'll tell you! It was the pointer, pinkie, and thumb, held up while my not-quite-4-year-old said "Shocker."

Oh yes, he did.

And he told me where he learned it, too. Not surprisingly (for me, anyway), it was from his teacher's son (who is 4) who learned it from his teenage brother. She knew about it, but didn't know what it meant.

I know that I am overreacting to some extent, but I don't care. I had been teetering on the fence between public and private school for a long time, and I really needed a push in one direction or another. It is not only this that is making my decision, but this didn't help public school's chances, either.

I don't want my children to be sheltered forever, but I think that 4 is a little too young to know the Shocker. I realize that he doesn't actually understand what he's saying- if he did, he'd be in homeschool TODAY- but I also know that's it's only the beginning.

I also think that elementary school is WAY too young to be doing boring busy work. We have our whole adult lives for that! I want him to enjoy learning, and to be able to carry that joy of learning throughout his life, rather than having it beaten out of him before 4th grade. I want him to learn about myths and history and math and science, not just as subjects but as things that influence the world around us. I believe that the Waldorf education is an education in context, and that lessons make more sense and stick with kids longer than those taught in the public school model. I don't want my child learning for the next test, I want him learning for life. I don't want him to be another number or stat, I want him to be a CHILD.

I also want to be a part of the community, which I think I've written about before. I want to be with a self-selected group of parents that are willing to sacrifice to give their children the kind of education they think they should have. I want to be one of those involved parents who helps with Michaelmas and building the Haunted House and putting on the Auction. I think my children deserve to be in a place with parents like that.

I know there are downsides. Having gone to this Waldorf school, I am WELL aware of the downsides to this particular school and to the Waldorf education in general. For instance, I DO NOT believe in Anthroposophy, the guiding philosophy behind the Waldorf model, but I also know that there are major philosophical differences that I have with the Public school model, too, and this seems less harmful in the long run.

I believe that we can give Cole anything that is lacking in his Waldorf education, I don't believe that we can do the same with Public school. Further, I don't think that we can heal the damage caused by the Public school system.

I believe it's Waldorf for us.

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

Also, THANK YOU all for your kind words of encouragement on my sugar problem. I have had a rough, but mostly successful, two weeks of trying to cut it out. The biggest problem is that I can't let myself have ANY sweets, no matter what the sweetener. Even agave kicks off the cravings. It's like (or so I've been told, not having ever been a smoker) when you're trying to quit smoking and you go out for a drink, except that you always used to smoke after having a drink, so now you want to smoke even though you weren't doing anything necessarily smoking-related. Does that make sense?

The thing that has worked the best is apples. Whenever I get a sweet craving at home, I eat one of the (incredibly lovely, delicious, organic and locally grown) apples I got at the Farmer's Market. It's satisfying enough and occupying enough that I usually can stop there. Special bonus: FIBER!

Addict

2009-10-05T15:13:00.000-07:00

I am an addict. Have been for some time, but lately it has moved from controllable to life-running. Like, I have structured my days around it and been thinking about it constantly and been a bitch when I am coming down.

What's my addiction?

Sugar.

I'm not joking. It is an addiction. Perhaps not as life-ruining as alcohol or prescription drugs, but it is a problem for me nonetheless.

I was doing fairly well up until a couple of weeks after Rowan was born. I didn't crave it as much while I was pregnant for some reason. But, for whatever reason, be it sleep deprivation or hormones or breastfeeding, after about two weeks in, I was a slave to it. I literally think about dessert all day. Cookies, pies, cakes, cupcakes. I am mostly a fan of baked-goods, but I will take anything. Even worse, I get a pass by everyone around me- shit, they even SUPPORT my addiction- because I am breastfeeding and "You can eat ANYTHING when you're breastfeeding." Sure you can.

Except that I started to gain weight, and I saw my energy dropping, and I noticed that I was spending 15 minutes straight in front of the cookie jar shoveling handful after handful of animal crackers down my gob and not really even enjoying them. But they were organic! And low sugar! Yeah- doesn't mean so much when you eat 10 servings at a time. I was making excuses to stop and get turnovers every week and then getting them again at the farmer's market on the weekend. I was figuring out which paths from home to the grocery store would take me past a drive-through coffee place and wondering when the pumpkin-spice latte would be available. I was dreaming up reasons for me and Cole to go to the candy store for a treat "for him."

Last night, John caught me eating a half-roll of Necco wafers. As I had already expressed my concern over my problem, he asked if I should really be eating them. I told him that it was either that or I was going to bake cookies or start drinking heavily, and I thought this was probably better. I think he thought I was joking, but I was ABSOLUTELY serious.

Today, I have been making fucking TEA all day (decaf) just to do something when a craving comes. The only really sugary thing in the house is sorbet, and I don't get cravings for that. I have a headache, and HOW. I am feeling significantly more tired that I ought to. I'm also feeling lucky that Rowan and I didn't get thrush through all of this.

This week I should be receiving a bathing suit from Land's End (it was on sale!). When I do, Cole and I are going to go to the local gym and pay their exorbitant fee so that we can start swimming in the heated pool two times a week. It means learning to really swim before next summer for him, and a little bit of exercise and butt-kicking shame for me. Shame is a good motivator for me, at least to start. I need to start somewhere. I need to be healthy. I need to have energy for my kids. I need to be in good shape so that, when the kids are finally ready to leave the house, their father and I can still have fun together. I don't want to be old before my time because of poor health choices now. I am 30, but right now I feel like I'm 50, and an unhealthy 50 at that.

So laugh, if you feel you need to, at my little problem, but know that it really is a big problem for me. But also know that I intend to do something about it, and writing it down here is my start.

ETA: And what should I get in my mailbox today but the November issue of Bon Appetit with HOLIDAY DESSERT recipes, reminding me once again that the season of greatest temptation is upon us. Thanks a lot, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, you fuckers.

9 Weeks

2009-09-17T15:16:00.001-07:00

Right! Blogging! I have a blog!

heh...

So I guess this extended absence makes me a... oh what's the word... yes- hypocrite. I would be pissed if the blogs I read took this much time off. Like "where's my free entertainment, bitch? Where are the goddamn baby pictures?!"

But I am quite seriously a creature of habit, and it became my habit NOT to write and so I didn't. And then didn't some more.

And I am now back at work (though still at home with Rowan) and writing has an added element of guilt attached to it.

But I have to break out of my non-writing habit. I feel better when I write.

We are doing quite well these days. Rowan is 9 weeks old and over 14.5 pounds of chunky baby deliciousness. Her cheeks are so big that, when laid on her side when she's hungry, she attempts to nurse on them. It's a sight rather akin to watching someone trying to lick their own ear. She is also holding her head up pretty well now, except when she doesn't and ends up slamming her little nose (which is totally going to look like John's, by the way) into my collarbone, which HURTS, dontcha know.

Cole is starting to fit in nicely at his new pre-school and already has a best friend. He has the most awesome active imagination and frequently makes up songs and stories. His story the other day started "Once, long, long ago, in the future..." Awesome. He also declared, in the fine tradition of 3-year olds and engineers everywhere, that he is the RIGHTEST. Indeed.

(It literally took me a friggin WEEK to write this. When I started, the title was 8 Weeks.)

30

2009-08-20T15:31:00.000-07:00

Today is my 30th birthday.

The day started out right with a 4 am baby fussing fit. Just when I had gotten her back to sleep, Cole woke up. I sent him to his father.

Then, while dropping Cole off at school, I suddenly became aware of a stronger then usual infant poop odor and realized, upon returning to my car, that Rowan had managed to poop copious amounts out of the leg opening of her diaper and down the front of my black shirt. For a better visual here, please understand that a breastfed infant's poop is bright golden-yellow and curdy. Delicious.

When I finally managed to get us both home, she had another fussing fit that ended with projectile spit-up in my ear. Then she pooped on me two more times.

But I did get an uninterrupted shower, a delicious apricot turnover, a hot cup of coffee, a nice lunch with my husband, and a lovely 1-hour massage with a hot-stone section thrown in as a birthday surprise from my masseuse, so my day has actually been quite lovely.

What can I say about being 30? Ummm... Well, I guess I thought I'd be smarter, but things are pretty good.

3 Weeks

2009-08-14T10:25:00.000-07:00

Because my typing has been mainly of the one-handed variety (because of baby-holding, nothing steamier!), I have been doing some updating on Facebook, but have been less enthused about taking the time to do anything here. But we're still here and still doing great. Breastfeeding is still about as perfect as I ever could have hoped, and Rowan has become our little pork pie. Seriously- this kid is SO chunky. I'm fairly convinced that she's over 10 pounds now. Every time I think about how big she's getting, I do a little cheer for the boobs and then start singing the song from Madagascar 2:

She even growls at me if she thinks I'm trying to take the precious boobs away. She's also not real fond of me putting her down. Ever. It makes housework interesting. Luckily, she seems to be increasingly okay with the sling.

And Cole, despite how much he clearly LOVES his "little sis," has been a challenge. He's looking for attention and he'll take it any way he can get it, even if it means being a horrible little shit to me and John. We're all still adjusting, and the fine tuning will take a while, no doubt. He's still finding his place at his new school, too. He's a little too fond of keeping tabs on everyone else's behavior, the little policeman, and it has made him a bit unpopular with certain kids at times. Yesterday, for example, he was trying to stop another boy from taking too much toilet paper and the other boy bit him on the back. It has only been 3 weeks, though, and I expect that in another 3 weeks he'll be far more settled, at home and at school.

Also a challenge has been my foot, the smallest toe of which I caught on the crib while trying to get to the bathroom to brush my teeth. It now seems that I did not break or dislocate it as I originally thought, but actually tore ligaments. It's turning a lovely, mottled blue/purple. So just as I was walking normally and comfortably again, I can no longer walk normally or comfortably.

That does contain some good news though, if you know how to interpret it correctly: 2 weeks after having Rowan I was walking normally and comfortably again! Perhaps that doesn't seem like much of a triumph, but considering that I was still not healed well a full 6 weeks after Cole, I am pumping my fist in victory to be this far along at 3 weeks post.

+2 Days

2009-07-24T15:26:00.001-07:00

So yes- most of you now know that on the 22nd I had my baby girl. Rowan Kysa is now already 2 days old.

And, oh my goodness, she is as gorgeous as I'd ever have let myself believe she might be. But her birth was one of the most torturous experiences of my life, and I feel luckier than I probably deserve that I had three of the most amazing people in the world there to help me through it. John, my midwife Ellie, and my midwife's assistant Clea were unbreakable pillars for me, and without them I was pretty sure that I would have gone literally insane. To say that this birth was different than Cole's is an hilarious understatement.

But we made it, and we managed at home and without meds despite the mind-bending pain and the complications that would have sent others not fortunate enough to have Ellie to the terrors of the hospital. And you know what? I already barely remember it. I hardly remembered it by the time I got to reach down and pull my daughter out from between my knees and up to my belly. Damn, birth hormones are amazing.

And so is she, my Rowan, both just for herself and for the new perspective her arrival has given me with Cole. He is so BIG. It's astounding! He is also every bit the fantastic big brother that we knew he would be.

There may be more details later, if I feel like recording it for myself, but those are the broad strokes.

Rowan Kysa
7/22/09
8 lbs, 10 oz (with the head of a 10 pounder, Ellie says!)
20 1/8 in tall

Oh, and breastfeeding, so far, is going perfectly.

Thanks for all of your support, enthusiasm, and best wishes. It means so much.

-2 Days

2009-07-21T05:02:00.000-07:00

My water broke in a slow leak at 2am. I tried to get back to sleep, but just couldn't. Instead, I got up, made myself some steel-cut oats, and have been reading Pratchett while timing contractions. John and Cole are still asleep. Midwife has been notified but is not yet on her way and won't be until I feel like I need her. So far, I like this home-birth thing. Do wish I could get a bit more sleep, though...

0 Days

2009-07-19T20:46:00.000-07:00

Today was officially my due date, and, while I felt very strange all day and had a lot of contractions there for a while, I think I'll go on record now as saying "NOT TODAY." I think my extended family is taking it harder than I am. They're all still assuming that I will call them tonight to come get Cole. I'm doubting it seriously.

My guess is that it will be tomorrow or the next day, but that could be wrong, too. All I know is that I'm close. I do think it's safe to say that Roo's birthday will have a 2 in front: 7/2_/09.

Anyway, I'm really fine with not being there yet. The biggest relief when I actually DO go into labor will be to have my family stop whispering behind my back about how I've dropped and how they'll be seeing Cole soon. I love that they're excited, and I love all the support, but DAMN IT! If Roo doesn't come soon I may have to hog-tie them, gag them, and throw them in the basement.

They did watch Cole this afternoon so that John and I could go see Harry Potter, though, so they're not all bad. I enjoyed the movie less than I normally would have because I just felt so strange and really only wanted to be at home on my exercise ball, but it was still nice to get out and have a last date with John.

So yeah... due date come and gone, as I honestly expected. Rather un-momentous.

2 Days

2009-07-17T09:21:00.000-07:00

I don't really know what to say, except that there are, officially anyway, only two days left before we get to meet this new kid and already I feel about a week overdue.

I had a dream last night that I had her and she was marvelous in every way, including that she had been born with a minimum of damage to me. Quite possibly one of the best dreams ever.

My grandmother has finally arrived and so I am no longer too concerned about labor support. Now I am just consumed by thoughts of when I might actually go into labor. I just want it to START. I feel like I'm suspended here and that my life can't move forward until we get this thing going.

It's in the 100's here, and so too hot for me to get out and walk like I want to. I used to drive to the mall to walk when I was waiting for Cole because the days had gotten too cold, but we don't have malls here. The closest thing in town to a mall is WalMart, and going in there is hardly worth being in air conditioning.

So I clean. And wait. And think about the projects I'd like to start but KNOW that I won't be able to finish because I'm sure that, just as I get a good project started, I will go into labor and it will sit for the next two years making me feel bad about myself and my ability to get anything done. I already have enough projects like this.

Chances are, though, that this will be over within a week. At least, that's what I tell myself. Don't tell me differently.

13 Days

2009-07-06T18:39:00.000-07:00

I SWEAR that I have been trying to post, but that something has not been working the last few times. I couldn't even get anything into a draft. I know that there was REALLY VITALLY important and fantastic stuff that I had to write about, but I can't remember for anything what it might have been. About all I can think about right now is 1) When the fuck this baby might be coming out, 2) The ultimate deliciousness of my new mango/nectarine salsa recipe(NOMNOMNOM), and... wait... I'm sure there was something else...

Oh yeah! ... and 3) how much I like all the covers for the intro song for The Wire.

(My memory- she ain't what she used to be.)

And just like that, in the last two days, I've gone from being cool with whenever Roo decided to show up to being just DONE with being pregnant. I have hit full term (which, technically, is 38 weeks) and she has officially become a trespasser. And while I still recognize that I will enter new levels of pain and sleep deprivation upon her arrival, I am really ready to have my own body back. To be able to put down this load once in a while- what bliss. That and being able to see her beautiful face. And making sure she's really a girl. I would honestly be perfectly happy either way, sex-wise, but it sure would be a LOT more trouble if she turns out to have a penis.

I'm still not really feeling like I'll make it the rest of the 13 days this time, but I also don't know if that's just wishful thinking. In one way, it would be really nice if I could, for the leave and all, but then there's the whole being pregnant for another 13 days thing... I suppose, in the end, it's not up to me.

We are fairly certain, as of today, that we have Cole's preschool situation worked out, and in a better way than I thought possible. I found an actual school- not a home-based daycare- that it enrolling and is NOT CHURCH ORIENTED. It is also not significantly different in price than what we'd been paying, so we feel comfortable with being able to swing that. I took a little tour today and it felt really good- the kids were happy, the facility was nice, the teachers seemed good. I told myself that I would go with my gut this time, and my gut approved (and there's a lot of gut there right now!). I think Cole will be very happy there but, even better, I think he will be safe and cared for.

But, in fine heels fashion, just as I'm feeling situated with one section of life, something else has to take a step back. It seems that I have most likely lost my labor support. My grandmother, who was supposed to be here already, keeps pushing back her visit and now will probably not be here until the 15th. At the earliest. Yes, it's certainly possible that she will still make it in time, but this extra level of uncertainty is very frustrating to me, someone who likes to plan as much as possible. I don't have any good alternatives here. There aren't many people I'm comfortable with enough to have there with me, and we don't have the financial resources to hire someone, if we could even get anyone at this late date. I know that things will work out either way, there are just more comfortable and easier ways than others.

I'll need to post a new belly-shot in the next few days (if I don't have a baby fist, that is!) because I swear I've gotten even bigger. My midwife is predicting that the little crotch-puncher will be a good 8+ pounds. We'll see. SOON.

18 Days

2009-07-01T13:29:00.000-07:00

It is truly unbelievable to me, even with how frigging LONG it seems like I've been pregnant, that in roughly 18 days we will have a new member of this family. EIGHTEEN DAYS. I'm reeling.

We had our home visit yesterday, mostly to make sure that we had all of the supplies and that our midwife could find our house (no problem there!), and I realized that it really is time to get stuff set out to be ready for The Day. Contractions have been increasing in frequency and intensity, and our little Roo has gotten a nasty little habit of groping my cervix (or so it feels). According to our midwife, signs are looking good that we may go even sooner than 18 days... though, of course, there's no guarantee. I'm not counting on it.

It is nice to be in the safe zone, finally, for having the birth happen here, given no unforeseen complications. She is free to arrive any day now, and we can at least avoid going to the hospital immediately. I feel pretty confidant that we will avoid a hospital altogether, and that's a relief.

I don't know if I'm effaced or dilated, and, honestly, I don't think I want to know just yet. Labor will happen when it happens. I'm hoping that it won't actually start until after the 10th when my grandmother is set to arrive. She's SO excited to be there for the birth because, though she's had 3 children of her own, she has never seen a baby younger than 12 hours old. She was completely under for all three of her deliveries ("Twilight Births," they were called), and she has been a huge supporter of my desire to do natural births with both of my babies, due to her disappointment with her experiences. It's an amazing feeling to think that I may be able to provide a "First" for my grandmother.

Cole and I continue to do well together, though I think I may need to enforce a little more routine in the day. I'd also like to do more projects with him, so today we're going to buy some better art supplies. He'd really like some nicer paints, good painting paper, and scissors that he is allowed to use. I think we can take care of those modest requests.

State of the... Uh... whatever.

2009-06-17T13:54:00.000-07:00

Daycare:
Cole and I visited the potential other daycare. It was... okay. I liked the provider and a lot of the parents I saw there (know them either personally or from cool stuff around town), but I didn't like the lack of supervision, the amount of places for kids to hide, or the incredible amount of stairs. Concrete stairs. Concrete stairs that Cole nearly fell down JUST DURING OUR VISIT. So I'm torn. I'm afraid, on one hand, that I'm being overprotective, but I also know that I've sincerely regretted not following my gut on these things before, and I had previously vowed to myself not to make that mistake again. My gut tells me that it's not the right fit for us.

Cole:
Is awesome. But that's nothing new. He will also SPANK you at Wii boxing, and that is new. He kicked the pants off of his daddy and his pop last weekend, something that pleased him greatly.

My belly:
WOW, is this pregnancy ever different than my last. I was never in this much discomfort for this long of a time. Also, the past couple weeks have brought the joy of panicking about pre-term labor because of the amount of contractions. To be truthful, it's only been mild panic because I haven't lost my plug, so I know it's not quite as imminent as it at times feels, but still... I hate sitting there and wondering if I should bug my midwife when I know it's only practice labor.

Also new this time around: my belly button popped out. Kind of. Like, the top did a little and the rest is flat. I don't actually think my belly button was ever deep enough to really pop out like some women's do, but it didn't even go this far last time.

With only about 32 days to go:

I had to break down and buy new bras because I literally was struggling to breath, the bands were so tight on every bra. The new ones are a huge improvement. I no longer find myself with my hand down my shirt, holding my bra away from my chest to catch a breath! That's money well spent.

Baby Roo:
I had a flash last night of what she might look like. All this time, I've been struggling to picture her; to picture any tiny newborn at all, including Cole. It was weird, like I had a block against remembering what any infant less than 3 months old looked like.

But, finally, I pictured her: sleeping and cuddled in a sling around my body. She was beautiful.

We have a month left, and with me not working and Cole at home, it's going to go fast. I mean, I actually had to panic legitimately the other night when I realized that I had forgotten to order something for the birth and wasn't sure that I could get it on time (it's fine- it will be here in plenty of time, I've been assured).

And, at this point anyway, there's nothing that I'm not looking forward to about the birth. I'll be happy to go through it and have Roo here, but I'm equally happy having more time with Cole before that happens. Despite my discomfort, I feel amazingly good about the head-space I'm in.

Hummus

2009-06-17T13:38:00.000-07:00

John and I have a mild addiction to hummus. It's also something that I can pretty consistently get Cole to eat. Unfortunately, it's also stupidly expensive, and Costco only occasionally carries it at a reasonable price. So I started thinking: how hard could it possibly be to make it myself? Answer: NOT AT ALL, and dead-cheap to boot.

Hummus
1 can Garbanzo beans (15-16oz)
2-5 tbs lemon juice (I use at least 5 because I like that tang)
1/4 cup reserved bean juice
2 tbs olive oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed (or more, if you really love garlic)
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 tbs tahini

Dump it all into a blender or food processor and process until smooth (doesn't take long!). After pouring it into whatever serving dish you're using, you can make a well in the center and pour a little more (1-2 tbs) olive oil over it, but I don't do that. You can also sprinkle on parsley, but I don't do that, either. I like serving it with "Naked" pita chips, carrot sticks, and sugar snap peas. Cole likes shoveling it into his mouth with his fingers.

It's great as a quick appetizer to take to a potluck or as a summer dinner when you just can't bear to heat anything. Or when you've forgotten to defrost the chicken breasts. Again. Not that I know anything about that.

Artistic/Intellectual Property

2009-06-11T15:20:00.000-07:00

This morning I came across a post by one of my favorite odd bloggers. In it, she posted pictures of herself that immediately resonated with me. I suddenly knew that I wanted to do pictures like this of myself while I am still pregnant.

But then I started thinking about, firstly, artistic etiquette and, secondly, artistic and intellectual property rights.

The situation is like this: I see an artistic project that I like and that inspires me to want to do something similar, though not identical. I ask a friend to help with a particular, important, and highly visible aspect of the project, and ask another friend to take the photos.

My questions are these: Do I first ask for permission from the original artist(s) to do this project? And then, once the project is done, who does it belong to? Is it the original artist(s)? Is it me, who thought of the new spin and posed for the photos? Is it the friend with the important contribution? Is it the photographer?

Think of it like this- if any of the individuals involved in the project wanted to enter the photos into a show, could each of us enter the same photo separately, siting our particular contribution as the most important aspect? To whom does ultimate credit go? To an individual? To the group?

Is it artistic plagiarism in the first place?

Also- anyone want to help me with a project?

Daycare Debacle

2009-06-10T11:20:00.000-07:00

The one where Cole was hit and I wanted to remove him from his school immediately but, instead, let "reason" and "practicality" win out, leading to him still being there for one more week and me feeling paranoid EVERY SINGLE DAY and grilling him on what has happened and if he's gotten in trouble or hit or ANYTHING and basically not trusting anything his daycare lady says? Yeah... it's working itself out.

No. No- WE'RE working it out. I take all the credit for us here, because nothing would have changed if not for us, and it's been fucking stressful.

We have one more week of care, and then I go on disability and Cole will stay with me, probably until September 1st. After that, so far, our options seem to be:

1) Put him in the Nursery program at the local Waldorf school where I went (from grades 5-8).
2) Put him in another home-based daycare that's been recommended to me by people I trust.
3) Some combination of the two.

The first two certainly have their strengths and weaknesses. I really like the idea of Cole entering the Waldorf program because I think it's a wonderful start for the arts, music, drama, and foreign language that he's not likely to get many other places. I also am VERY drawn to the idea of being in that community, myself. I've tried to start up friendships elsewhere, but nothing has really taken. Here, though, there is a built-in community that I (more or less) have things in common with already. Educated, fairly liberal, professional, 30-somethings with kids? In THIS area? Sometimes it feels like we're the only ones, though I know that's not true. Driving into the Waldorf school parking lot was like discovering a new world populated by people just like that, and it was amazing. He can also stay there for next year and move seamlessly into the Kindergarten class with kids he already knows.

Its weaknesses are that I don't completely buy some of the Waldorf educational philosophies (no reading until much later than public schools- that's not alright with me. I LOVED reading as a kid, and was reading quite well by first grade), though I certainly think that public school is far from perfect. Also that the program is either Tuesdays and Thursdays, half-day OR Mon, Wed, Fri, half-day. Not exactly a great match with my working schedule.

The major strength of the home-care is a fuller schedule (though she doesn't work on Thursdays, stops at 4:30 on M-W, and stops at 3 on Fri) (by the way- WTF is up with THAT?!) that's year-round. The weaknesses there are that 1) it's another home-care, 2) it's still not full-time, 3) I have NO idea of her teaching philosophies, and 4) he'll need to go somewhere else in a year for Kindergarten.

There is a chance that we may be able to have the best of both worlds, sending him to Waldorf T and TH and to the home-care M,W,F, but I won't know until this Friday when we interview at the home-care.

I know- this is boring the SHIT out of you, but I keep needing to talk about this, re-hash it, re-think it so that I can be as sure as I can be that we're doing the right thing for us and for him. There are no perfect answers here, and any way that we go is going to be a struggle. He's WELL worth it, of course, but there are certain "solutions" that are far more crazy-making for me and/or our budget. We're trying to achieve balance, hardly knowing the sizes of the loads we'll be expected to carry.

Spinach Pockets

2009-06-08T20:07:00.000-07:00

I made spinach pockets for dinner tonight, and YUM and EASY are about the two best descriptors. John and I had seconds and Cole even powered one down (and he's a notorious picky-butt).

Spinach Pockets

1lb box frozen Phyllo (Filo) dough (but only 1/2 is used- keep the other half frozen)
1 box frozen, chopped spinach
1 cup feta cheese, crumbled
1 egg
about 1/2 cup red onion, finely chopped
salt
pepper
butter

Follow the instructions on the box for defrosting the phyllo. Preheat oven to 400F.

Combine defrosted spinach (I heated it in the bowl I used to combine everything in the microwave for 4 minutes and it was plenty warm), feta, egg, onion, salt, and pepper in a bowl and set aside.

On a greased (I used olive oil) cookie sheet, fold one sheet of phyllo in half crosswise and lightly brush with butter. Repeat with 2 more pieces. Scoop about 1/4 cup (or use your discretion, just beware of over-filling) of spinach mixture onto one end of the phyllo, leaving about a 1-2 inch border. Fold the other end of the phyllo sheets over the top and fold edges under. Repeat until filling is used up (I got 7 pockets out of it). Brush tops of pockets lightly with more butter.

Bake for about 30 minutes, or until golden-tan and crispy. Watch out! These suckers are HOT when they come out, and it takes them a while to cool. Leave plenty of time before serving to kids, particularly. Cutting them in half helps.

So good, so fast, so cheap. NOM.

So Embarrassing

2009-06-02T09:00:00.000-07:00

I did something last week that I said I would never do. Even worse, I liked it. I feel dirty and ashamed, but it felt so good that I want to do it again.

I tried on Crocs.

In my defense, I am having trouble with bending over and foot-swelling these days, leaving me with not much more to wear than flip-flops. And flip-flops are okay, I guess, except that I dislike having no closed-toe shoes.

So I tried these on, making sure no one saw me. And I liked them. And (gulp) now I think I'm going to buy them.

Please don't judge me too harshly- I'm under the influence of some pretty wicked hormones and I may not be entirely in control of my actions.

How Much More Can Happen in 3 Days?

2009-06-01T11:40:00.000-07:00

Shall we see how far we can push it? Because I'm not sure there was really enough. (*snirk*)

Since Friday, we have experienced the following:

1) After picking Cole up from school and taking him to see UP (totally worth it, by the way. Completely adorable), he reported to us that his teacher "hit him" and that he had an owie on his head. Owie was confirmed and, upon probing for further explanation from him, we got the following story (translated for those who don't speak 3.5 year old):

"I was playing on the big playground and [the daycare teacher] got mad at me (he doesn't know why) and she picked me up from the ground by my hands and feet to go into time out and she swung me and I hit my head on the pointy thing on the wood pile."

WTF, folks?! What's a parent to do here?

Well, if you take my reaction as any indicator, you freak the fuck out, that's what you do. I immediately called my dad, who ALSO freaked the fuck out, asking if I wanted him to go over there right that minute and confront her (NO, Dad! NOOO!! Not a good idea here!!). I called daycare and got the message machine, but couldn't bring myself to leave a message. I still hadn't sorted my feelings enough (have I now? I don't really know. I guess not.).

We decided to take the weekend to work out what to do. We knew that, at the very least, Cole wasn't going to be further harmed by spending the weekend with us while we made a decision.

2) On Saturday, we went to the Maker Faire in San Mateo. Despite the overshadowing anxiety, guilt, and sadness that Friday's revelation cast on me, I had a good time- we all did. We got to travel down with one set of friends and meet up with other friends we hadn't seen in over 3 years. Even more than how incredible it was to be around so much intelligence, creativity, and beauty, it was wonderful to be around friends, people with whom I feel truly comfortable. And though Cole was not his usual lovely self (he tends to go a bit batty in large, exciting crowds), it was really nice to spend the whole day with him and getting to see him experience the amazing things we saw. That boy loves him some robots, fire, and bellydancers, he does. Oh yes- and roving cupcakes. That's my boy!

(Cole took this one himself!)

And here- have these, mostly because I find them funny:

3) On Sunday, to begin to assuage my guilt (and give me time to just think about what the fuck we were going to do), I finally managed to set up the kiddie pool that arrived last week. It was as big a hit as I anticipated, and I see full days of swimming ahead of us this summer. It's a very good thing that it has a filter.

By 8 last night, we were still not sure what was going to happen today. We felt our options were 1) Confront his daycare lady and never take him back (leaving me in the rather difficult position of trying to work from home WITH Cole for he next three weeks- an arrangement which was not as successful as I had naively hoped when we tried it the week before last), or 2) Pay for the whole next month (GAH!!!) but only keep him there for 3 weeks, and definitely NOT confront her about the whole thing until we were ready to leave.

So both pretty much fucking sucked.

We couldn't keep him there AND ask her about the incident because I have seen her take things out on kids in a very passive-aggressive way in the past, and I DID NOT want to subject Cole to that. But I wasn't really happy with any of our options. And I had nightmares all night about it.

So, this morning I winged it. What I came up with was a BIG.FAT.LIE, but I think it was the best way to balance everything.

I told her that we were having money trouble and that we were having to cut everywhere we could. I gave her a check (and boy, was that painful) for 3 weeks of care and gave a 3 week notice (she requires 2, meaning that I was giving more than I had to). This way I got to 1) not pay for an entire 4 weeks and 2 days, only 3 weeks of which I would intend to use, 2) buy myself a 3 week window to figure out what the hell we're going to do next, and 3) make her feel that, while the situation sucks because she's going to be losing our tuition money, she had nothing to get defensive about.

I could potentially keep him with me for the following 10 weeks of maternity leave that I get paid for through State Disability, so it's more like I have a 13 week window with which to locate our next step. Do I love that he's there for the next 3 weeks? Abso-fucking-lutely NOT. But I also don't think that any real, lasting harm is going to come to him in that time. I think that the Friday incident was an accident and a fluke; unfortunately it's an accident that I still have HUGE problems with and that comes on the heels of other behavior that was already making me question whether he was still in the right place.

So we'll deal with 3 weeks and I'll be on the damn phone a lot, something I HATE PASSIONATELY. I'm terrible on the phone.

And I'm scared about what will come next. Parenthood, for me, includes large quantities of pretty much everything that I hate most in the whole world- pain, sadness, uncertainty, insecurity, phone calls, bodily fluids, filth, guilt, frustration, bad smells, bad surprises, no sleep- which makes me wonder why I still love it so much.

Oh... right.

HALP!

2009-05-28T10:44:00.001-07:00

I need a new pair of glasses, but I can't make up my mind. Keep in mind that I have not been able to try ANY of these on, and it is pure speculation on my part that any might look halfway decent on my face.

Any favorites of the bunch? Any I should eliminate right off? Really- ANY suggestions here are welcome!

Because I Needed To

2009-05-19T20:49:00.000-07:00

I could tell you about the stress, and the stress list I have that feels like a million miles and a lifetime long.

I could tell you about the babyshower and subsequent other overwhelming acts of kindness and generosity.

I could tell you about the unbelievable amount of writer's block that I am having faced with such amazing generosity and the need to write thank you notes. As if notes could ever suffice.

I could tell you about how I am now working from home, and with Cole here with me this whole week.

I could tell you about the car accident we were almost in on our way to Sacramento, and how, though we completely avoided the collision, I am changed. Nothing like feeling as if someone has put your entire family of FOUR in danger to make you queasy about driving.

I could tell you about how I looked in several stores in Sacramento for a maternity bathing suit and came up with exactly nothing. What the hell, Sacramento?

I could tell you about how goddamn hot I am all of the sudden, and I don't mean HAWT. I mean red, swollen, sweating, lethargic HOT. $60 for a pool is looking a lot less like a frivolous expense and more like an investment in my sanity. And quite probably John's health.

I could tell you about how delicious Cole was while practicing to be a big brother over the weekend with a month-old baby girl. Her parents were awfully patient, too, for which I thank them immensely.

I could tell you about the four weeks left until I can go on maternity leave, and the mixed feelings I have over the prospect. Or the eight weeks I have left until my due date.

But really, I just needed to write for the sake of writing. To have something down; something recorded. And now that's done, and I can keep going.

Earth-Mama

2009-05-05T13:03:00.000-07:00

I never thought I'd be this person.

When I was living up in Humboldt County, I was forever annoyed by the earth-mamas and their hypocrisy and holier-than-thou attitudes.

But now I could be mistaken for one of them.

These days I buy organic and free-range and non-growth-hormone food preferentially. I eat granola. I shop in herb stores. I go to a midwife. I will have a home-birth. I knit and crochet. I asked for (and received) an Ergo baby carrier. I shop at the farmer's market. I am considering the Waldorf school for my children. I have seriously contemplated cloth diapers. I bought organic poop for my tomatoes. I just dropped real cash-money for cloth postpartum pads after investigating making my own.

Where did I come from?

I know that having children can change a person, but I had no idea how much. Just watch- next year I'll be milking my own goats, making my own cheese, and planning our move into a yurt up in the hills where I will home-school our children and breastfeed Roo until she's 10.

(I'm joking, of course. I mean, I DO do all those things that I listed, but I don't think it's a bad thing. I think this was spurred by my decision to buy cloth pads today, which is a new thing for me and therefore strange [though not bad!]. But I have a really, really good reason for doing it! And believe me- if you knew that reason? You'd think it was really good, too.)