Wednesday (still not wise but wishing)

My wish list right now:

• Wellbutrin and Xanax so I can be stable and kind and patient.
• Cloth diapers so my babies can be in softness so the Earth can be free of our nasty diapers so we can save money and so I can feel nice about things and so Charlie will try the potty! (I am convinced this super sta-dri stuff makes them not give a damn)
• the parenting tools to help my little Casey and Charlie without yelling when they get so wound up I think they might spin right out the front door in a whirlwind of broken glass
• a place for them to go a few mornings a week
• bicycles for Greta and Mickey, a bike for me with a baby trailer and helmets all 'round.
• a little swimming pool
• reconnection with Greta and Mickey before its too late
• enough money to have basic needs met. like pay the rent, the utilities and have food. Yes its that bad right now.
• some kind of way back to the parenting and mothering I used to be all about--minus the regret and guilt and sadness, please. (I cant even look at the Charlotte Mason books on the shelf without searing choking tears and shutting throat and heart palpitations--can there be PTSD for failed homeschool dreamers?)
• a miracle cure for my mom who is dying and help for my grandmother who is being abused and neglected and robbed

ppd update

Monday night I went to my postpartum depression meeting again. This time there was a mom with her ten day old and her husband, and me and 2 counselors. She took precedence, of course, and I told her how amazing she was for recognizing stuff so early. I think we all helped her. She was 35 and a "control freak" so the first baby really flipped her out. Csection, breastfeeding. I just wanted to drive immediaty to her house and wrap her in a quilt and take good care of her! Her husband was a gentle and kind and cool man but I guess there is her mother who is being awful to them but when it was lightly sugessted that maybe grandma was part of the anxiety there was just no sign in either of them that her being around was an option. I felt bad for her. she had no clue that "it gets better" but she was very against antidepressants. I said I WANT SOME! TODAY!
they laughed. I came across as this funny manic jokester and they think I am doing much better I am afraid. But there is some place I get to call today to maybe get in to a doc w/out health insurance, etc. I will keep you posted!

I had a panic attack Sunday night and I thought I was going to die. And I dont mean that in a "my hair is so ugly I wanna die" I mean like I have felt the grave and the panic at life's ending and trying to scratch up and out of the Earth and get one more chance....terror. terror. terror. Maybe all of this is some kind of punishment for something? I want the meds, I say. No time for self indulgent analysis right now without some kind of bolster. I have 5 little kids who are home all day. and they stare at me. and the guilt is indescribable.

But Monday night reaffirmed for me that I do belong in psychology and I do belong helping mothers. I felt such a strong pull towards that mom and towards her "case". So my life's studies have not been up the wrong tree. Very good to know.

i am taking 3000 iu of vitamin D a day now and my omega 3/6/9 pills twice a day as well as vitamins and minerals blend for women.

better day

We had a much betetr day with little Casey yesterday. We basically got out of here by 9:30 am and walked across the street to our beautiful park and stayed there until 4pm. It was out of desperation at first, as I was just completley feeling dead done defeated from the throwing pillows, throwing bowls, jumping off the counters, slamming doors, ringing the doorbells---like I was some victim of a mental tortur eexperiment--stop honey! stop! stop!....just insane insane chaos. I grab the baby and take the 3 littlest across the street. The grass was still wet and so were my eyes, thinking I cannot believe Greta's birthday is going to be me crying in a park....but by 10 am the sun was warm and the boys who were literally killing each other at home were digging in the sand, side by side, having a decent little conversation.

Eska wants to toddle all around and so I follow her. she eats less woodchips and cig butts than even a few weeks ago, and actually goes does slides by herself! She is quite brave. Greta and Mickey came over and we had a nice day. I met a mom who told me some pretty crappy stuff about the local public school I have been wanting to send Casey to, and it gave me a scary reality check. I want to send him and maybe Charlie to this very small private daycare up my street, they take ages 6 months to 6 years. It is just about playing and having a nice time, not agendas and curriculum standards and shoving kids into stupid milestones just to get funding for the new ceiling tiles or whatnot. But we dont have the money. any money. I dare not discuss on here how dire it is right now, but certainly its scary/depressing/bad in and of itself.

I will just take each day as it comes, and try so hard to...just live at a park if thats what it takes until....until....I dont know?

my baby is 12

Well, dear readers, it was 12 years ago today that I was hooked up to the pitocin, ready but not ready at all to become a mother....pit at 6 am, cranked up hourly until they broke my water at 11 am, immediate pain and me curled up on my side crying with my eyes shut gripping the lifeboat that the tiny hopital bed rails had become, wishing I had packed a shotgun instead of whatever goofy stuff the books had told me to pack...then the epidural angel came and I was sitting up and chatting with Steve, pinching my legs under the blankets and wishing I had the opportunity to get a tattoo so numb...then I thought I had to go to the bathroom and when we asked for a nurse assistance she "checked me" and then the big lights came down from the sky to glare upon my bum and they all slapped broccoli stinky masks on ym faceand urged me to push! push! push like youre gonna have a bowel movement, honey! Good! Good! Good! Push! no! yes! yes! thats great! wow a lot of hair, here she is! its a girl!

tears of total confusion and happiness. a girl a girl oh thank god shes so fat and purple-pink and slimy

they took her over to the warmer or something and they started their crotch surgery and gimme a few more pushes honey for the placenta and then wrappy wrap youre all wrapped up heres your blanket baby do you wanna try and feed her?

?!?!?!?

It was so crazy. But I was happy. I was gonna name her Eva, or Eva-Kate, or Greta, or Elsa. Someone said "Eva sounds like Evil" (this was before the Eva craze plus we were gonna pronounce it Ava but this was before the Ava craze) so I just went with Greta. Greta Katherine. No reason at all, just sounded awesome to me and Steve.

I was on magnesium sulfate for another 24 hours after the delivery so I felt really hot and ill but I had no idea it was from that--they never told me--so when they took it out, I felt SO AWESOME! Except my poor coochie. Oh god what had become of me. The pain was very disturbing and I could barely move around in the bed. But the baby was soooooooooooooooo cute and I was feeling so clear headed and proud, that I just hoped it would heal someday.

We had her on a Monday and I had to stay until Thursday. So we enjoyed our time and she nursed and looked so cute. I was 22 and this was kind of all I really thought about the whole thing--bless my heart--she is so cute, I cant wait to dress her in cool clothes, ow my poor crotch, I cant wait to give her hairdo's, I want some taco bell, I look so skinny....such is the young mind.

We brought her home and did the classic drive 25 in the right lane thing. The world seemed dangerous and oblivious to miracles. We got up into our tiny upper flat and took her out of the bucket and watched TV together. Steve's parents bought us an air conditioner for our front window and she had a big black meconium blow-out on the couch and we gave her some ramshackle bath in a little bathtub on the floor and it was hard to dress her. Steve went to work the very next day and my milk came in and it was kind of rough. My mom brought me into the hospital for a blood pressure check and that trip wiped me out pretty bad. Some friends tried to come over that night and I got weepy.

But literally, I was be-bopping within 2 weeks, taking her up north to my grandmas, shopping, everywhere.

Happy birthday Greta angel. You have always been so ridiculously good, I will never know what I did to deserve you!

As is everything in life, its all intertwined. And among it all is our Casey. Who we have known was different since he was about 5 months old.
We have been "dealing with" our son's behavioral problems/developmental anomalies, scared, but so so so busy, among new babies and c sections and new houses and money problems and dying relatives and homeschooling philosophies all washing down the drain, dead ends with books and vitamins and utter lack of ability to really get to the point where there is a therapist or a pill....so many well intentioned peoples, authors, strangers' advice that all kind of melt together and feel like one big horrid mish-mosh of HE IS JUST A SPIRITED LITTLE CHILD YOU GUYS SUCK YOU ARE REALLY BAD PARENTS HOW CAN YOU BLAME YOUR LIFES PROBLEMS ON A LITTLE CHILD, HE'S JUST A CHILD FOR GOD'S SAKE....mixed with the very real experience of now being on the other side of that great divide at the park and the mall and the restaurant and for a few short weeks, the school system to the tune of OOOH STAY AWAY FROM THAT BAAAAD KID/WHO WOULD LET THEIR CHILD CLIMB ON THE TOP OF THE MONKEY BARS/WHY DOES THAT BOY HAVE A GIANT BRANCH/COME ON HONEY LETS GET AWAY FROM THAT WILD BAD BOY/WHAT KIND OF MOTHER IS SHE CHASING DOWN HER CHILD WHO IS RUNNING AWAY FROM HER...and my own dreams becoming fast-fading bitterly irrelevant jokes...CREATE A SPECIAL BEDTIME RITUAL FOR YOUR CHILD! READ THEM A SPECIAL STORY! CHILDREN REALLY RESPOND TO LAVENDER OIL! HAVE HIM PLAY WITH NATURAL FIBERS! WHOLE FOODS! CO-SLEEP! BREASTFEED! MAKE HIM KEEP A LITTLE NATURE JOURNAL! SING SWEET SONGS IN A CIRCLE! REGULAR ROUTINES! CLOTH DIAPERS! HERBAL SUPPLEMENTS! CHARLOTTE MASON! JOHN HOLT! STRUCTURE! FREEDOM! HE NEEDS SCHOOL! HOMESCHOOL!UNSCHOOL! HAVE A DARLING CIVIL WAR THEMED LUNCHEON!

My
son
doesnt
work
that
way.
\

But I think my other 4 kids do. What I dont need is more guilt or more people who do not believe us. And what we have truly gone through living with someone who is so destructive, so hyperactive, so chaotic, so confusing, so impulsive, so dangerous, so thrill seeking, so clueless to others' feelings, and just so, so, so draining and upsetting we will never be able to really explain to anyone who sees him a few times a year outside of the home. Yes he came to your house and ate crackers and colored and spoke nicely. So?

I am grateful that he is healthy, and I am grateful that he CAN be normal/good sometimes. Of course. But I am DONE with dreading my life, dreading everyday, dreading breakfast, mornings, lunch, naptime, afternoon, dinner, bath and bedtime.

I contacted the public school system (ugh) in our new town and inquired about some "testing". More ugh. Everything about being his mom has made me have to go do stuff I never wanted to, out of hope/wits' end. They said he could get tested in kindergarten and before you all roll your eyes and shout at your computer screens not this again, Joy!!! I must say it sounds better than last year's public-school attempt and here is why:
It is only 9am to noon. Not 8 am to 3:20.
I am not freshly csectioned trying to push some double stroller like last fall. We have a van for me now and I walk like a champ should the desire strike me.
He is a year older but they still said Kindergarten is totally ok rather than 1st grade.
It is supposedly some great school that is really known for its special needs support type of stuff, knowledgable mature staff, etc.
We arent sending everyone, just him.
I do not know what else to do and there are 4 other kids' daily lives deeply affected by living like this, too that i must take into consideration.

\
He has to go somewhere, and my begging our relative for the money to send him to daycare this summer didnt work. They said no. So, all I can do is try to hang on, go see the new pediatrician and refuse to leave without a referral to a real child psychologist who will actually get us in, and I am going to begin supplementing him with Omega fatty acids 3 and 6.

We are trying and always will as long as we live to be better parents to him and all the children and have a wonderfully reviewed book on amazon on its way called Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child. (turns out me weeping into a dishtowel "just get him the hell out of my face for five minutes, please!" isn't the most effective way to deal with his emotional outbursts! did I mention overwhelming guilt and irrationally intense self loathing and dark dark regret being the main components of my depression?)

When Casey gets help and I get help and we all make it through this, it will certainly be a glorious time, a return to the true Eden that our family was before....before...before so many things. We will survive. I love him so much. But he just screamed "I hate you weenis! Weenis the penis! You killed a penis!" and then I heard something REALLY loud crashing....so I have to go now. (If he wasnt in my house and he wasnt around my other kids, he would be really, really funny!) Strange thing to think, but life is very strange.

I have postpartum depression. Surprise! haha

I am going to a group meeting every Monday night now and trying to expedite my way to the moment when I am taking some actual pills. I dont have weeks to wait for appointments and referrals I just want some Wellbutrin. I took it before and it really helped. no side effects except dry mouth and that made me drink some more water which is good! And vivid dreams, but i found them exhilarating and worthy of remembering.

Things around the family are very bad, and we have 3 birthdays this week and we had one last week. No money for any gifts, but will get some cake mixes from the store and promise little parties soon soon soon. I think around November last year they realized they wernt getting bday parties.

In the meantime, its omega fish oil and vitamin D pills. Lots of sleep, trying to stay away from the home (where kids fight all day) and just be quiet when i feel like I am going to say mean things. As an extrovert (who gets her energy re-charged by being with others) this deep desire to be alone, work at a tollbooth, be a long distance trucker, run away to Walden is a bit ( a ton) scary for me and certainly impossible with 5 kids.

Angel baby is just too adorable for words, too hilarious to ever capture, walking like an 18 month old, and just hope and pray she doesnt turn mean hateful or damaged by this kind of mother.

Me and Greta decided to not do a single "hair-do" to her until she turned one year old, so this Thursday she will get a barrette in her darling little bangs. Unlike alot of moms of girls, (myself included with baby Greta) I do NOT adore her long hair in the back it looks like a mullet and we might have it cut straight across to start a little bob.

Daddy turned 35 on the 4th, Greta turns 12 on the 9th, Eskarina turns 1 on the 11th, Mickey turns 9 on the 13th! Gemini overload! But I love Geminis : )

Might not be blogging too much but I will try...

Mama's little fix.

Today was kind of soul-sucking. Ok it was long and hella rude and just uninspired and tedious and futile and dishes dishes dishes fighting fighting fighting dishes dishes dishes and gross food and gross coffee and squealing and squalling and cloudy and I tried, I really did, I tried so hard to be chill and patient and kind, but, I am sure how much any of it mattered. To the kids, that is. To me, my shaky start to a wierd day just never seemed to change the nagging feeling that the peace and balance that was not coming from the nice weatr or the nasty coffee or the vitamins might be somehow attained by a good old fashioned get the hell out of here?
Since the economy has taken its toll on Mama-go-Out night, (but alas I still needed to get the hell outta dodge,) I went to the library tonight for a little bit, and mosied (mosey'd?) on over to the magazines...ahhhhh such a refreshing thing to sit and read some light fare--what? My library carries BUST!? the koolest 'zine turned magazine ever? (Sorry hipmama, but you're my number 2) wow. I am going to read cool things and see beautiful stuff and laugh , hooray!!!!!! All my displaced girl-woman kitschy darling joy o meter that had been emptied dry was being filled back up--boop boop boop boop boop!Full hearts! I learned that Julie Doiron is back with the guy from Eric's Trip (fave band of all time) and that their new album rocks! Must download! I learned that Lily Allen is really hilarious! I learned that there is some book out there called It Sucked, and Then I Cried--the title alone is so perfect--about a mom's battle with having a baby and getting ppd--gotta read it! I learned that there is some book out there of short stories that are inspired by the titles of Sonic Youth songs and that it unfortunatly is rubbish--glad to know. I learned that I must must must learn to sew now more than ever because there is just SO much adorable-ness out there that i will never be able to afford in my lifetime nor will it be available in my size except maybe in Sweden where I am probably a Medium LOL---I gotta make my own skirts with cherries and olives on them and kick ass purses with owls and toast ARGGG its all so cute why why why do I love it all so much?!

I love BUST. Just going to the library and reading it made me all better. I was gone 40 minutes. I am an easy to fix girl. But I am human, and like I said, it was one soul-sucking day.

Bloody period talk, plenty of TMI: be warned!

I have had five pregnancies with five long breastfeeding-induced amennorhia times as well--so this subject has only come up as something I needed to think about for good, for real, as of now. How am I going to live my life , possibly 20 more years, with these insane periods now that I am done having babies?

It started after I had baby#3, Casey. the first period was so out of control that i went to the doctor, who sent me to the hospital. Although I got plenty of comments to the tune of "Jesus! Whoa!", I was told that there was nothing they could do and to take some iron. Well, 2 more babies and like I said, it hasn't come up---until now.

I want to be gory and gross and yet I don't. I have guy friends who read this thing and call me old fashioned but I hate to get too personal--but I also have women who read this who might need to hear what I have to say, and the winner is the women. So here goes:

When I start my period, it is okay for like an hour. And then it gets so heavy there isnt a damn thing I can do except lie in bed and bleed to death. Worse than a murder scene, worse than childbirth (much!!!) but I cant lie in bed, I have to take care of the children. My 2 littlest boys just do not "let" me lie down, they get into so much trouble and scuffles, but yes we try to use the tv asmuch as we can....

I cant even explain how sick it is---there is no point of tampons, its like it isnt even in there. they hurt and they dont do anything. The hugest pads, well if I could sit super still just sort of trying to bleed perfectly like a little bird on my nest then maybe...but I need to change them like every 10 to 20 minutes. There is no moving around (so, commercials with the bicycling and cheerleading always leave me a bit confounded, har har) or else I will flood out and ruin my home. Pants, couch, I cant move at all or blood gushes out and what can i do? Where can I sit? All over my stomach, legs, take a shower every 15 minutes??? Its so gross. I literally do not know what to do. Alot of women use the homemade cloth pads, and I just have to laugh at the idea of flannel even beginning to help this faucet.

So I am just now winding up 6 days of this nonsense. And I looked online, originally for those birth control pills but found this and wanted to post it and see what you all thought. I get dizzy, weak, and can barely function I get so tired and in so much pain. And then the psychological upset at just being so filthy and hopeless---well this sounds cool. But I dont like to try some freaky new thing, what if it, like so many other things ends up being another medical "WHOOPSIE--TURNS OUT IT GIVES YOU CANCER!" you know???

Seeing as wrapping my entire body in diapers and sitting atop a black quilt pile while drinking energy shakes and floradix just isnt an option, I asked my husband if he could stay home one day a month and he just said no. I was joking anyways and one day wouldnt do too much anyhow. But I regret ever ever putting Eska in her crib, ever, I know the decreased night nursing brought my cycles back, and do want to find out more about this procedure. Any crazy period stories are welcome here, and this is something that affects the whole family, and shouldnt be a secret shameful thing, so any input as far as something better than "Mommy has her tummyache again" would help, too. God this blows.

Off to go really, really appreciate the next 3 weeks as a human being!

***I just found this discussion so I will be on there for a while checking it all out.

Memorial Day weekend

Well, my dears, Eskarina is WALKING! Yes, at 11 1/2 months, she and Casey were our only babies to walk before 14 months! she is also CLIMBING, big time, and we have had to practically empty our living room of almost everything! No more computer--she pulls it down onto her head. no more fish tank, she climbs onto and practically into it. No more cat scratch post, side table, or children's table. no more dollhouse. it looks very plain in here and now it is safe and BORING.
Homeschool Park Day is going wonderfully, every week homechoolers from our county come to our park and spend the afternoon together! My idea is a smash success and there has been no problem whatsoever with opening our house up for bathroom usage, never even thought for a moment that there would be. So far I have been super cleaning it and for me it feels nice to have a tidy house for the high traffic in and out day, but I have gotten a few kind spirited but a little curious comments to the effect of my clean house making others feel like their house is "a disaster" ---its just so ironic and funny to me, my \whole life of thinking we were the filthy slobs, the unorganized, unmotivated losers of the housekeeping world, somehow making other people feel badly about their homes! I didnt mean to do that! Its just that by noon, I get it nice in here. They wouldnt recognize the place at 10 am...thats how tiny this place is, but it is also easy to clean. We worked very hard to make this a place that was just that, so I guess its a success? For us, not putting everything in some forgotten bedroom is a success---we just dont have any hiding places so we have to deal with messes and clutter right head on. Its hard but simple. It works for us.
I bleached out my fuschia hair and will not be going pink ever again. It is bright bleach-blond now with pale pink ends. I dont know what I will do now. I really wish I had cooler clothes--just a few key items, and I wouldnt feel so freaked out about hair. I never know what to wear in the summer, I never have! Even if I had the dream body whatever the hell that means, skimpy is just not for me. I dont wanna see your upper thighs and you arent seeing mine. I dont even like upper arms and armpits flying out--I guess you could say i am verrrrry into tshirts for all! Jeans or jean capris, or spinny skirts. Everything else bugs me. **I would also include dresses, i love dresses but my dream dress only exists in my mind and I cant find the real deal to save my life. Bought 2 at Target 2 years ago but they just are not cut for 6 foot 1. (Why would they be?) The dumb waist was across my chest and all bunchy and gross....but I do have dreams of great shirt-dress with chucks and maybe a turquoise ponytail....I really want pastel hair but its hard to get to take---pale blue and pale pink together would be de-lovely.
Someday there will be enough money for my personal style. Its not very important right now. We are having a good late spring, going to a parade tomorrow morning and then visiting family. Enjoy the long weekend!

Emerging from underneath the mountain of capitalism's misinformation

Thank you to those who have shared your stories of comebacks and healings and not healings and everywhere in between. These stories are one thing that is so lacking in the universe of Information For Women.

First its the hush hush surrounding sex ed and sexuality.Then its the hush hush surrounding pregnancy and childbirth. Then its the hush hush surrounding what we have once there is this new body and this new baby! Ack!

No wonder the tweens/teens gobble up the tabloids. They tell such a crisp and clean and linear and beginning-middle-end kind of a story, huh? Meet a hot dude, have an obnoxious wedding (or not, usually not) have a be-bop pregnancy with a tiny rounded shiny (what is that one about, btw?) tanning boothed belly--twins are hot right now, maybe try for twins--, and have a very mysterious birth with no details, prattle on about how you breastfeed and then appear on such and such red carpet such and such weeks afterwards with no baby in sight and unveil your new bod!The end!

The money and work that goes into that story is what we are not told. The time and assistance from outside sources as well as the toll on the mothers and babies is what we are not told. Cause that story is too yucky. and too un sexy. and sex sells and making regular folks feel like they suck and are weird and outside of the norm sells and yeah im gonna say it there is big money in keeping every woman on the verge of insanity/depression or certainly insecurity, and there is even big money in convincing the men that their woman is gross now...

There is no money to be made off of a loving couple, enjoying their family, eating what tastes nice and working out or sleeping when that feels right, wearing comfortable clothes and hanging out spending their time on questioning authority and making music and contemplating life and watching films and enjoying nature with their brood.

So I say that my post surgery body is probably pretty much normal. It just freaks me out because I need to go to websites like Shape of a Mother or The Belly Project just to see anything even remotely resembling my body (its the darn c section lump that I have such a hard time with---and I didnt even have that until I had baby #4). And I say that my post operative pain is probably pretty much normal, and if I need to hear from real women who have had "long" recoveries from surgeries, you guys are right, ICAN would probably be the best place to go. I know some of you are hurting still and some of you are not, and I know it will come and go with the cyclical changes and with activity and with too tight jeans and with all kinds of things...I also did have one kind nurse in the hospital who told me that since I had a tubal ligation that I was healing from not one but two surgeries--somehow that made me feel less horribly terribly "Wrong" as the others in there were so happy to treat me.

It's scary for me to want to try certain exercise moves. I spent so much time "paralyzed" as a mother that doing that to myself on purpose just never sounds tempting. Not only did I suffer from SPD during the last 4 of my 5 pregnancies, but I have had the 3 c sections and many many episodes of "thrown out my back" this past winter where I could only sit in my chair with hot water bottles and have my 11 year old pull me to the bathroom, watching in lame frustration as my house collapsed around me from the toddler mayhem...its really not a good scene when there are so many little ones and no mom.

So it is scary to me to think of getting my ass to some exercise class. I picture the first round of "get down on the floor and..." riiiiiiip goes my right side of my adhesions and they have to call Steve to come get me.

For now, I am walking. A mile a day, (not including all the walking I do on our outings and such) pushing 50 pound Charlie and 22 pound Eska in the double jogger. As fast as I can walk without the 38H's causing too much of a scene, with my crooked foot and my trick knee, I am doing something. In a week or two I will be upping the distance, and yes, that ubiquitous yoga class I joke arond about so much, maybe just maybe will happen, too. (Although a DVD might spare me the imagined embarassment, I get that its good to go out of the house, etc).

I might not ever be skinny again, and I know this is the belly I have now. But if I could get some more stability and less of the your-guts-are-on-fire-and-you-cant-reach-up-too-high-or-else, that would be for me, a great place to wind up.

Also, I really really am going to get a breast reduction when Eska is an old girl and my nursing days are done. I just watched a TV show about some girl with "double D's" and boo-hoo she cant jog and it strains her neck so badly and I gotta tell ya I just thought double Ds?? that is TINY!

: )

What I know Wednesday

First pregnancies are often a "breeze", with time flying by and wishing your belly would "show", and jogging about--but the baby blows apart your entire world and life as you knew it is terrifyingly unrecognizable.
Fifth pregnancies blow apart your entire world and life as you knew it is terrifyingly unrecognizable--but the baby is a "breeze", slipping right into daily life, with time flying by as though she was always there.

Nobody else's homeschool is mine to emulate, nor should anyone try and emulate mine. At its essence, homeschooling is just family living, with the amount and frequency of book-learning to be tweeked by the parents. How could you base your family on someone else's family? And better yet, why?

I still need to connect with other mothers who have had (preferably multiple) c-sections. But I dont really want to get dragged down into the world of online depressed Mamas either right now. Reading about my other mom friends and what they are doing at a few weeks or months postpartum shows me that there is seriously, seriously something very very VERY different about my experiences from theirs, and I am not sure where to turn for this. The library books about doing little sit-ups are not what I need. Berating myself is not what I need. But I would be lying if I didnt tell you I have been crying lately about this upcoming first birthday and where I am "at". Not to be a total bitch, but it is kind of ironic that even though the cesarean rates are so high, I have very,very few real life people I know who have had one. (blatant plea for sectioned cyber friends to commiserate/reassure/share your experiences? Is anyone else still ripping and shredding and hobbled?)

****Michelle it truly sucked of me to say I didnt know anyone, and I apologize for my rude omission. I guess in some way i was referring to Moms whom I knew when they were pregnant, and had the whole pregnancies together and then they ended up with a surgical outcome and being with them through that time and aftertime--it is great but statistically surprising that through 20+ friends and families' babies they were all vaginally born.

I am a different person when I am out in nature. I need to seek this daily, no exceptions. Yesterday we didnt go on our walk and I can feel the loss of it.

If I want the clothes that I envision in my head to exist, I am going to have to just sew them myself. Mostly I want many versions of my long green skirt. It looks so be made of big triangles of fabric, lined with some thin cotton, and has a drawstring. Cant be too hard!

My dream wardrobe is getting smaller and smaller: 7 of my long skirt, in all different color themes. 7 Old Navy tall "perfect fit" T-Shirts in various colors to go with the skirts. 1 pair of dressy dark stretch jeans. 1 pair of awesome old school rock star Levis, soft and faded, button fly. A few good bras. Undies. Buckle shoes, chucks, doc martens, crocs, winter boots and my long funky socks and my rainbow of old man cardigans collection. Please donate all other ugly lame ill fitting hideous crap to charity. Thank you!

No matter how hot cranky temperamental I might get loading 1000 pound strollers over my head with sand and tiny hotwheels cars pouring into my eyes stepping into the melted popsicle puddles and bees and flies and sunburns and mud and sweat and ugly jean shorts and farmers tans---I get it now. Summer really IS better than winter. After last winter, I am officially one of those people who tells the youngsters about the sun warming their bones and such. I get it now. (and with pregnancies and newborns behind me it will only get better)

Sheepishly retracting previous claim...

I love Facebook now. I am sorry that I freaked out. It is neat-o, and I really have "found old friends and reconnected!"

But even though I can see where writing blips and blurbs could fit into my life much more than blogging, the real reason I havent been blogging is because this #$% computer or internet or blogger itself has eaten THREE big posts I wrote--even left the house and went away to write them.

So I will re-try in wordpad. In the meantime, if you wanna find me on facebook or want me to find you, email me at Housefairy75@gmail.com and we can blip and blurb!

34 years of body image

in progress

What I know Wednesday

• Its just too weird to call yourself wise. So I changed my weekly thing to What-I-Know-Wednesday. Some monikers need to be bestowed from an outside party, only.
• If you have pink hair, sunscreen is no longer OPTIONAL (!!!)
• Coffee from home tastes sick. The money I could theoretically spend on nice coffee equipment seems to want to just be spent on yummy coffees.
• I drink house coffee out of some sad hopeful habit. At best it gives me the shakes and an ulcer. At worst it makes me nauseous and irritable.
• Given an actual dirt pit and a few "tools", (and make sure it does not seem all mommy-approved as in "heres your fun dirt pit, sweety!"), my 2 little boys have been completely outdoors everyday all day since Saturday.
• I officially put all kinds of kid shoes in the washing machine. Crocs, rainboots, converse, suede and mesh velcro shoes...I dont know what my shoe washing kick is, but it seems like with whats going on around my home and life right now, these muddy clompers have to get washed, every night.
• If I dont completely wash my face before bed, I look like some dingy shadowy dirty horrid rock-dawg the entire next day. Its like the makeup stains my face and cannot be properly removed in the morning.
• Oak trees gets their leaves sooooo slowly! They crack me up, the lazy things! The entire world of maples, birch, beech is in almost full leaf, the crabapples have flowered and are almost past peak, and here is the mighty oak with these itty bitty leaf-buds! i love everything about oak trees, I am literally a tree-geek. Of all our homes we have lived in, we finally have a huge oak -bam-right in the center of the front yard. Ahhhh---but I dont know what kind of oak it is! I suck! I must find out ASAP! : )
• Everybody on tv officially has gone off the deep end with the teeth-whitening. When every person you meet in real life starts to look like "they could use some white strips", its a problem. What on Earth will be next? What freakish thing will soon start to look "normal" to us, and will capitalism ever, ever ever be vanquished? Do any of us really know how much money there is in selling us insecurity? Have you seen the new thing where every woman (on tv) seems to be getting the line between her nose and mouth "filled in"? Its worse than the botox-ed eyebrows, it really makes the face look like something is missing! I hate it all so much!
• A big part of me really truly believes in "jinx". This comes out the strongest when the Red Wings are in the playoffs. I have been known to get my old Detroit jersey out of the hamper no matter how dirty it was when the game was on. One time it was too dirty to wear so I just sat in next to me on the couch. The Wings lost, andI knew it was my fault, if only a little.
• I had my first strong twinge of "Oh my god we really are not going to ever have another baby!!!!!!!!" last night and so we decided that when Eska is about 2 1/2 or 3 is when we will get that dog we have been talking about forever.
• I have no idea if diet or exercise is better, but I have failed miserably at both of them and really am starting to feel like "it is time". (It takes me a long time after I have a baby to be able to deal with this. I have some eating disorder stuff in my past, nothing too dramatic, but just put it this way-- I was "on a diet" last Monday for about 6 hours and it sent me into a lunatic eating attack! I guess I have some old panicky stuff about "Im gonna starve!" and I lose my mind.
• Another reason why this house is so, so wonderful is one that Greta revealed to me last night as we chatted on the way home from Girl Scouts: There are no weird or scary things about it. No crusty dingy mysterious "scary" spaces whatsoever. Even the little pull-down ladder to the attic seems very simple and plain (although we did both admit to having no desire to go up there, we are happy that Daddy has the xmas stuff and some stuff up there).
• There is just NO substitute for real Sudafed (pseudoephedrine).
• As darling as rainbow leggings, crisp khakis, and little blue jeans are, there is just no substitute for black or brown pants if you want little kids to ever have any hope of appearing "clean". (Do just mine need to crawl in actual soil from April til November?)

yawn-book; is it just me?

So, I went and did it. I checked out "Facebook". I must say, it is incredibly, entirely....boring. It is just not special, like the blogging is/has been. noone seems to say anything profound or deep or even slightly beyond:

I went shopping
Sure is warm out today
My tummy hurts
I added photos to my thingie
I went shopping
I should go to bed!


Oh my goodness, it is just very uninteresting and common. Oh well. I have a thing on there now and if I am ever childless and sick in bed I might do some quizzes like "what flower are you" or "what 70's tv show are you". But mostly, I just dont get the thrill.

I did look up my cute little cousins in Chicagoland and they are still cute and funny. (They are like in their late 20's but i think of them as little)

Wise Wednesday (In the vein of wordless Wednesday?)

• People whose child gave them an easy time with something are often the know-it-alls.
• People whose child gave them a difficult time with something are often the empathetic, sympathetic humble supports.
• When a child tells you "I dont wanna go potty in a potty", believe them. Whether *it* is going to end up in a diaper, in character emblazened undies, or on the floor is up to you.
• Many of the toddler issues that torment, terrify and frustrate the parents are resolved by age 4. By age 5 that number is almost 100%. Pacifiers, diapers, big kid bed, messy eating, odd sleep schedules, inability to use playground equipment without help, and so on. I think it is up to the parents to turn age 2 to 5 into a precious time or an anxious shameful time. (You'd think that some folks were actually angry they didnt give birth to little 6 year olds!)
• Being 34 is completely different than I thought it would be. I have to slow down and spare out my energy and really think before I commit to something. The bonus of this is much more enriching and meaningful experiences, albeit less activity and spontaneity. (I have no idea if this is 34 or if this is life with 5 kids)
• ONLY the caffeine in coffee works on me. I could drink 10 Cokes or 10 teas and go right to bed. (My ulcers come and go.)
• In more than just fashion and music ways, I am still living in the late '90's: Now it is children's television that has passed me by--where the hell are Teletubbies, Maisy, Miffy, Kipper, Little Bear, Little Bill, Boobah and Blues Clues with Steve not that horrible Joe?
• Take pictures and videos of your children. The more mundane, the better. This is not something you will get a second chance on.

Wash a day

These are some cute ideas from another mama of many, on that ole timeless subject of LAUNDRY. Now that we have a washer and dryer in our kitchen because our teeny little housey does not have a basement, this issue has come to the forefront. Mostly, I have done well, but we have not gotten to the place where there is some rockin' "system" yet. This past Saturday we had a huge folding freak out but already the clean mountain is back. Anyone wish to share their laundry tales? Right now we have a few hampers, I run the wash almost constantly, and when it is clean, it gets whipped into my room. Just being honest!

Fun on a rainy day

Well, my hair is HOT pink! My hands are stained, but that wears off, and it is a fun change.