Today I have way too many random thoughts to get just one post about the same thing. So I will leave you with some honest feelings I have about some things. I can totally share most of these without feeling the least bit guilty. Sorta...
I am scared about my upcoming surgery (10days)- To be more precise. I am scared that I will die during surgery and leave my children motherless - all in the name of vanity.
After actually typing the above feeling - I might also be crazy.
I realized this morning that I have not even opened up my Kinder and 4th grade kids binders from school in at least 3 days.
I also realize the amount of communication from their teachers is ridiculous. I do not need to know every time that Wild Man gets out of his seat during class or makes funny sounds during art class. He is 6 freaking years old. I think that is normal behaviour. If he bites someones finger off then feel free to let me know.
Big Daddy actually had the balls to text me this morning and ask if he could have a Bird Dog. He tried to glam it up by saying "they are really expensive and I can get one for free"
My text back read something like this "Is this a F***ing Joke?"
I can not deal with anymore living creatures in my house. WTH is a bird dog anyways? It is probably free because it is genetically mutated and will eat one of the kids face off.
I have no idea how to get the male species in my house to flush a DAMN TOILET. All of them from Wild Man to Big Daddy. It is insane and gross.
I did however figure out how to keep Wild Man from using my bathroom (we have 2 others) to take his morning dump while I am getting ready for work. I went into his bathroom while he was taking a bath and took a dump. Stinked up the place and did not even fan it. I considered not flushing but just could not do it. He got mad and covered his mouth and nose and nearly cried. I told him that if he didn't want me doing that while he was in his bathroom to not do it while I am in my bathroom. It has been 2 days and he has not tried it.
About 3 weeks ago we moved the baby out of our room and into Wild Man's room. He has slept like a rock since the first night we moved him. Seriously, sleeps 11-12 hours straight. Our bedroom life has improved in more ways than one :)
I am having to squint alot when I communicate with The Brain. Squinting helps me picture him when he was about 1 year old and sweet. It has saved his life as of recently countless times.
The Boy (16) is quite possibly the worst liar I have ever known and I have known alot of liars. The good thing is that he knows this and usually only slips about once a month. For that I am grateful.
For the past year, A very good friend of mine (B) and her son (J) have lived with us. B is our full time household manager and once The Baby was too old to come to work with me (6 months) she takes care of him during the day. She has given Big Daddy and I the gift of time and I am eternally grateful for that.
Whenever B and I go somewhere together without Big Daddy and with kids - we always get this look
"Awww, look at that cute lesbian couple and their kids" Especially if we are grocery shopping and discussing what we need at "our" home. Whatever people.
I am totally in love with Big daddy. (even when he does not flush the toilet)
Monday, January 24, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Birth photography
My great friend Natasha Hance photographed my last labor and birth, In fact she photographed every moment of his pregnancy. It is something that I will forever treasure. I am posting a little something she wrote on the importance of birth photography. Enjoy and when you need a good photog in the Dallas/Fort Worth area - drop me an email and I will hook you up.
You can find her on facebook - just search NHance Photography. She rocks my world and will rocks yours as well.
"You're going to have a WHAT at your birth? A PHOTOGRAPHER?" That's pretty much the response that most people get when they mention hiring a professional birth photographer to attend their birth. But why shouldn't that be the norm? We hire photographers to capture memories of our wedding day, a day we dream about as a little girl. Most of us dream of becoming a mother as little girls long before we ever dream about being married. We were created to give life, it's part of who we are from the very beginning. If you were to sit down and ask a woman in her 80's about the day she gave birth to her children, she could probably tell you everything including smells she remembers even if she can't remember what she had for lunch. Birth changes who we are as women. It is monumental. It has the ability to empower us, to break us, to strengthen bonds between friends and loved ones... it tests who we are. However, our memory of our births often fall short of the "big" picture. We become so focused on the process that we often don't "see" the beauty in it. We don't always see our husbands face as they look at us with a sense of helplessness. We don't always see our young daughter who is wiping the sweat off of our forehead, we know she's there, we know she's doing it, we don't always see our mothers who are looking at us wishing they could do it for us.. we don't "SEE" it how everyone else see's it. We sometimes miss so much and it's a day we have been planning for, envisioning, and dreaming of for at LEAST the last 40'ish weeks! Birth photography gives that back to you. Birth is completely unpredictable. We never know what birth path we were meant to walk. Sometimes the birth we get, is completely opposite of the birth we wanted. These types of births can be very hard to process for many women. We really struggle to find the positive out of a hospital transfer, emergency c section and then immediate nicu stay. Being able to look back at the journey birth took us on through images is priceless. Life is captured through the lens and the memories captured are always there to revisit, anytime.
"My aunt Susie is going to take pictures for me". Ok. I'm sure you will cherish pictures your aunt Susie takes. My first homebirth, the birth of my 4th child, was the first one to be captured with images and they were not professional. I DO cherish those images and LOVE that I have them to look back and reflect and remember that special day... but they don't even begin to compare to the professional images I was able to get with my hired birth photographer for my 5th birth. They truly take my breath away. Snap shots do capture memories.. but professional birth photography tells the story in a beautiful artistic way.. a way in which you can FEEL the emotions through each image. Birth photographers are there only to capture your story through careful framing, use of creative angles and cropping, specific camera settings, KNOWING how to read a womans body language and understanding birth in a way that she anticipates moments before they even happen so that she is ALWAYS ready. She is a fly on the wall, always waiting to capture the perfect moments. The flash is bounced so that it is not flashing in your eyes (and because it looks better than the pop up flash!), most mothers don't even notice the flash or the photographer while they labor. It doesn't stop there. After each birth the images are uploaded and carefully edited and converted to a black and white conversion that is nothing compared to an "auto" black and white conversion you can do at the kiosk at walmart. Sometimes a few are left in color, but for the most part, birth photography is converted to black and white so that there are no distractions, you are left with pure and raw emotions. The images are artistic and full of emotion that tells a story. Once all the images are edited, they are placed in a slideshow set to music that compliments your birth to help tell the story, the birth of your child, the day you became a birth warrior. The images are tastefully captured and edited so that you can proudly show them off to friends and family.
Sometimes, as in Anna's birth, it isn't possible to photograph the actual birth, and that's ok. Her birth was amazing nonetheless, and her images still make ME cry when I view them. I am pretty sure that everyone in that room as she labored and then was transferred and wheeled back for an emergency c section, was empowered that day. I know I was. I also know that she gave a very special gift to her daughter that day allowing her to be the nurturing soul that she is and hold her mothers hand, she will cherish those images when she becomes a mother. I am continually amazed and in awe of the power of a woman in labor, no matter what kind of labor or birth she has. EVERY labor and birth is amazing. EVERY life is amazing. They each deserve to be memorialized for future generations to see what birth really looks like, to see the love and the sacrifices that go into it. What a gift to give your children and grandchildren to be able to SEE the day they were born! The gift you gave them. It is empowering and breathtaking to be able to look back and see your labor how everyone else saw it. It's one thing for people to TELL you how amazing you were in labor, but it is something entirely different to be able to look back and SEE it and say, "YA! I WAS amazing wasn't I? I AM a freaking birth warrior!".
Natasha Hance
~Nhance Photography
You can find her on facebook - just search NHance Photography. She rocks my world and will rocks yours as well.
"You're going to have a WHAT at your birth? A PHOTOGRAPHER?" That's pretty much the response that most people get when they mention hiring a professional birth photographer to attend their birth. But why shouldn't that be the norm? We hire photographers to capture memories of our wedding day, a day we dream about as a little girl. Most of us dream of becoming a mother as little girls long before we ever dream about being married. We were created to give life, it's part of who we are from the very beginning. If you were to sit down and ask a woman in her 80's about the day she gave birth to her children, she could probably tell you everything including smells she remembers even if she can't remember what she had for lunch. Birth changes who we are as women. It is monumental. It has the ability to empower us, to break us, to strengthen bonds between friends and loved ones... it tests who we are. However, our memory of our births often fall short of the "big" picture. We become so focused on the process that we often don't "see" the beauty in it. We don't always see our husbands face as they look at us with a sense of helplessness. We don't always see our young daughter who is wiping the sweat off of our forehead, we know she's there, we know she's doing it, we don't always see our mothers who are looking at us wishing they could do it for us.. we don't "SEE" it how everyone else see's it. We sometimes miss so much and it's a day we have been planning for, envisioning, and dreaming of for at LEAST the last 40'ish weeks! Birth photography gives that back to you. Birth is completely unpredictable. We never know what birth path we were meant to walk. Sometimes the birth we get, is completely opposite of the birth we wanted. These types of births can be very hard to process for many women. We really struggle to find the positive out of a hospital transfer, emergency c section and then immediate nicu stay. Being able to look back at the journey birth took us on through images is priceless. Life is captured through the lens and the memories captured are always there to revisit, anytime.
"My aunt Susie is going to take pictures for me". Ok. I'm sure you will cherish pictures your aunt Susie takes. My first homebirth, the birth of my 4th child, was the first one to be captured with images and they were not professional. I DO cherish those images and LOVE that I have them to look back and reflect and remember that special day... but they don't even begin to compare to the professional images I was able to get with my hired birth photographer for my 5th birth. They truly take my breath away. Snap shots do capture memories.. but professional birth photography tells the story in a beautiful artistic way.. a way in which you can FEEL the emotions through each image. Birth photographers are there only to capture your story through careful framing, use of creative angles and cropping, specific camera settings, KNOWING how to read a womans body language and understanding birth in a way that she anticipates moments before they even happen so that she is ALWAYS ready. She is a fly on the wall, always waiting to capture the perfect moments. The flash is bounced so that it is not flashing in your eyes (and because it looks better than the pop up flash!), most mothers don't even notice the flash or the photographer while they labor. It doesn't stop there. After each birth the images are uploaded and carefully edited and converted to a black and white conversion that is nothing compared to an "auto" black and white conversion you can do at the kiosk at walmart. Sometimes a few are left in color, but for the most part, birth photography is converted to black and white so that there are no distractions, you are left with pure and raw emotions. The images are artistic and full of emotion that tells a story. Once all the images are edited, they are placed in a slideshow set to music that compliments your birth to help tell the story, the birth of your child, the day you became a birth warrior. The images are tastefully captured and edited so that you can proudly show them off to friends and family.
Sometimes, as in Anna's birth, it isn't possible to photograph the actual birth, and that's ok. Her birth was amazing nonetheless, and her images still make ME cry when I view them. I am pretty sure that everyone in that room as she labored and then was transferred and wheeled back for an emergency c section, was empowered that day. I know I was. I also know that she gave a very special gift to her daughter that day allowing her to be the nurturing soul that she is and hold her mothers hand, she will cherish those images when she becomes a mother. I am continually amazed and in awe of the power of a woman in labor, no matter what kind of labor or birth she has. EVERY labor and birth is amazing. EVERY life is amazing. They each deserve to be memorialized for future generations to see what birth really looks like, to see the love and the sacrifices that go into it. What a gift to give your children and grandchildren to be able to SEE the day they were born! The gift you gave them. It is empowering and breathtaking to be able to look back and see your labor how everyone else saw it. It's one thing for people to TELL you how amazing you were in labor, but it is something entirely different to be able to look back and SEE it and say, "YA! I WAS amazing wasn't I? I AM a freaking birth warrior!".
Natasha Hance
~Nhance Photography
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Definition of a Midwife
"A women skilled in aiding in the delivery of babies"
Hmmm... That is an accurate definition but my experience brought to light so much more.
I have alot of feelings I want to express about the midwife that Big Daddy and I chose to help with the delivery of Chayden, but it seems that words just are not enough. So I will leave you with a few pictures and words and I hope you can see the definition above is just one tiny part of what my Midwife does.
Do you recognize the look in her eyes? It's the look of love and admiration. A look that comes from the heart and not just the eyes.
A smile so contagious that even a hard laboring mama can appreciate it. A gentle touch that makes the most painful contractions roll in and out like a gentle tide.
A calm presence when things got tough...
This was taken not long after we got to the hospital. I was having contractions every 30 seconds and was waiting for the oncall doctor to get there to do an emergency c-section. Big Daddy to the left and Lisa (my midwife) to the right. I know as much pain I was in, she felt it as well.
Hmmm... That is an accurate definition but my experience brought to light so much more.
I have alot of feelings I want to express about the midwife that Big Daddy and I chose to help with the delivery of Chayden, but it seems that words just are not enough. So I will leave you with a few pictures and words and I hope you can see the definition above is just one tiny part of what my Midwife does.
The creation of an environment so easy and relaxed that even while being 6-8 centimeters dilated, I can stop to straighten her hair. One of my favorite parts of that night.
Lisa was and is so much more than just a women skilled in aiding in the delivery of babies. She is my hero. She assisted in making my baby dream come true. She helped bring my Chayden into this world safe and sound.
For this I will be eternally grateful.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
breaking up is hard to do
to my belly...
You and I have had some great times. Really great times. In fact just about a year ago You and I were doing this:
Good times...
It's been a great run. You have never let me down when I called upon you to stretch and hold my precious cargo. You grew and you grew and you never tired, never complained.
You left but a few little stretch marks, just enough to remind me how hard you worked for me.
But here we are, no growing baby, no expanding uterus, no anticipation of new life. We are are just here, existing with each other. Long gone are the days of me rubbing you and taking delight in your transformation to become the holder of my babes.
Just a sad stretchy shell is now left ...
When I look at this picture of us, it saddens me. Why is it that you were once so loved, but only when you were stretched out with newborn life fluttering inside. Now all that is left is sad saggy skin, a few stretch marks and muscle damage that has been deemed only fixable with surgery.
We must end this love/hate relationship. Its not you, its me. I promise. I don't think its a good idea that we remain friends. I need to move on.
You and I have had some great times. Really great times. In fact just about a year ago You and I were doing this:
Good times...
It's been a great run. You have never let me down when I called upon you to stretch and hold my precious cargo. You grew and you grew and you never tired, never complained.
You left but a few little stretch marks, just enough to remind me how hard you worked for me.
But here we are, no growing baby, no expanding uterus, no anticipation of new life. We are are just here, existing with each other. Long gone are the days of me rubbing you and taking delight in your transformation to become the holder of my babes.
Just a sad stretchy shell is now left ...
We must end this love/hate relationship. Its not you, its me. I promise. I don't think its a good idea that we remain friends. I need to move on.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Glitter on my soul
This week begins the countdown of the One Year birthday of my bitty boy. My 5th and final pregnancy.
To catch up on this pregnancy and the story of his birth, please go here The story of Chayden King Campbell
I want to take some time this week and reflect on his birth. The good and the bad. I will be posting a New birth story this week. I wanted to redo it after I have had a year to soak it in, to soak him in, to soak in all the love my village of friends and family have given him and I this past year.
I want to start off this week with a story that my beautiful friend Kristine wrote after Chayden was born. Kristine (at the time) was a helper ( Midwife in training) to my Midwife (Lisa Black) and although I had never met Kristine prior to my last month of pregnancy, she has became a part of me and a part of Chayden.
Kristine has left her glitter on my soul and along the way she managed she to sprinkle a bit on Chayden's as well and we are both better people for it.
This was written by Kristine and I read it at least every other week. Thank you my sweet friend for this memory.
Chayden King Campbell
By Kristine Tawater
Apprentice Midwife
In my 6 years as a birth doula I have written A LOT of birth stories about a lot of babies. But when you asked me to write one for you I sat in front of a blank screen for quite a while. Because this birth story; to me wasn’t so much about the actual happenings of the birth of a baby to me. It’s easy to mark the happenings in timed increments…what happened when and so on.
But this was a different sort of story for me for many different reasons. First I was not as familiar with your family as I would have been as a doula. This was one of my first births as an apprentice midwife and so I saw things in a different light. But you, you were different too. And you had your own light.
You had a plan for this birth because you really really love your baby. Your plan was to bring him quietly and peacefully and gently into this world. You learned about homebirth, I assume from a home birthing friend and you made a careful choice to hire a midwife and birth this baby in your home.
But as we all know, plans are not rigid, they must bend to the will of everything but our own desires. And your desires and your will bent far past where you thought it could.
Your labor was slow to start. But slow can be a good thing. I think it kind of threw you off a little because of having birthed 4 others before. But you did it well. When I got to your house, things had slowed a bit and your confidence was a little shaky I think. I think you were tired after bouts of prodromal labor. I think your mind was ready for your body to get the show on the road! Your spirit was well. So we just chilled out and watched your changes. You took a walk with Natasha & your husband to try and kick start things. We ate dinner & I got to meet Autumn.
As things progressed your daughter started to stay by my side quite a bit and I could see in her a dawning. Her eyes were witness to what it is at the very core of being a woman. She is a wonderful creature and it was the most fascinating experience!
The lights were dimmed and trying to follow your birth plan, Lisa and I stayed out of the room as much as possible to give you the quiet intimacy that you longed for in this very new kind of birth experience, far removed from bright sterile hospital lighting. Your room was warm, dimly candle lit that put a beautiful amber glow throughout the room and the candles smelled lovely.
You labored on your ball rocking and swaying and leaning against the bed. The baby always sounded good, he was happy during labor.
I loved that your sense of humor was not thwarted by labor. It was so fun to see someone so obviously laboring hard quip jokes and sarcasm and to see a woman genuinely enjoying the experience, even the pain. Your husband was there, a quiet but rock steady support. He just flowed with you, he didn’t seem out of place or nervous as some dads tend to do, he just looked at you with the purest form of admiration and love I think I have ever seen. He is solid. He held your hand and didn’t move for the longest periods of time, I knew he must be uncomfortable but he wasn’t going anywhere because simply- you needed him where he was. And so he stayed.
Autumn, I smile every time I think of her. She has gentleness to her. She has concern and empathy and that deep seeded desire to comfort that every mother has. Her desire to hold you up through labor was enormous. She asked me questions in quiet whispers, What is happening? Is this Ok? What should I do? How do I help my mom?
She would watch me and Tasha and Jason and she would mimic beautifully. Then she found herself. She found her rhythm and she found the woman she will someday be. She held your hand, she rubbed your back and your arms and looked at you with sheer adoration. She was never frightened of the sounds and the seriousness. And God love that girl she stayed awake until sleep claimed her for its own and I tucked her in a chair with a warm blanket and told her to rest. That I would wake her if anything important happened. She was terrified she would miss the birth! But I think the most amazing thing about her is what she saw between you and Jason. The love, the trust, the intimacy that is birth. I think birth is the second most intimate thing you do as a woman and the first is the reason you got there. So for her to experience the intimacy of a solid marriage will forever stick in her head about what love really is. You gave her a gift.
Through labor, things progressed slowly but surely with nothing standing out to us as caregivers. The labor was normal. I know this is probably where you have the questions. I think your bag of waters broke around 11:00-11:30 and soon thereafter you began to make the sounds of birth. The low, grunting pushing working sounds all mothers make. Jason was there, your mom and sister and sweet Autumn was awake.
You tried some pushes, went to the bathroom and pushed a little more. Chayden sounded happy and all was well. So we tried some different positions with Dr.Pam making adjustments. You squatted and pushed, Jason held you up, I gave you a rope to try and you pushed. When you got tired, you pushed on the side of the bed, on top of the bed laying on your side and you pushed hard.
After a little while, you kind of expect a baby to be close in a 5th time mom. But he didn’t seem to be coming down to meet us. I tried everything I knew as a doula and a few things I had seen work in other births. I watched Lisa closely and we listened to what Chayden was telling us and he was getting tired.
We pulled out the O2 to help give you and Chayden a boost and it seemed to be what he needed. HE seemed to bounce back well after contractions and pushes with the oxygen. Autumn stayed right by your head holding the mask and never taking her hand off you. As I watched the experience of Lisa and Bonnie I felt the decision coming. It was about 12:00 midnight. Lisa checked again to see if she could determine what was hanging your boy up and then Bonnie did the same so they could compare. They did not think he was posterior but both said his position made it hard to tell. There was some concern in their eyes because you were getting so tired through all this hard work.
Finally I knew Lisa was about to say it. She told you that she didn’t think this birth was going to happen at home. That Chayden was ok but he was tired and you were tired and you needed to make a decision regarding going to the hospital to get your boy. I knew you would be brokenhearted but you were really, really resolved to do what needed to be done for your baby regardless of what your wishes were. This is the hallmark of a true home birthing mama. You want home birth, you need homebirth, but when the baby changes the plan, you go to where you need to go to have a healthy baby.
Once the decision was made, we packed the things we needed, prepared the cars and left. I assured Autumn that everything was fine but sometimes babies need more help than we can give at home. She was afraid but she was so very brave and Jason, was again a rock.
Now, I have wondered before why you would want to live so far away from “everything” and on following Tasha to the hospital I now know it is because living by the Motor Speedway is the only place her driving skills can be fully appreciated. :o) So we flew to the hospital and though I wasn’t in the car with you I knew this was the physically hardest ride you have probably ever been on.
We arrived at the hospital about 12:30am to the flurry of OMG from the nursing staff that the homebirths arrived. I don’t know why this is always such a cause for alarm. But we were given a room and went thru the rushed intake, and the whole while your baby boy was strong though he needed to be born. Jason stood by your side and whispered to you and stroked you and comforted you and helped you through until it was time to go. He never faltered.
After the decision was made to go to surgery, you were taken away and Jason was left in the room with us for a while. That man loves you. Real true love. He held it together beautifully because he was afraid for his wife and his baby but he was rock solid when you needed him and he would have never let you see his worry. We talked to him, giving him a rundown of what to expect and tried to help him calm his fears a bit before they came for him too. Dr Cummings showed up all cool calm and collected and said he would step in but then the on call doc came in and took over.
When you both left. The room just deflated. Transport is hard on the family, but it is hard on the midwife too. Did I make the right call? Did I make it soon enough? Who is taking care of my client now and are they treating her with kindness? What the heck is going on back there? Everyone in the room prayed.
I prayed for you and I prayed for Chayden and I prayed for the burden that Lisa was now shouldering. Lisa prayed and Tasha prayed and we lifted you to God for his protection.
Then we got the word! Oh joyous praise for a healthy baby boy and mama! Over the next little bit we learned that it was indeed a good call. That tangled up flexed back stubborn boy was not going to come out the traditional way and we were all so relieved that you were all ok. I think all the air and adrenaline we had been living on rushed out of the room and we all just collapsed & waited for the ok to see you.
Over the next few days, I want you to know that Lisa and I talked every single day for probably 6 hours going over and over every detail of your birth. She needs to make sure she did it all right, that she took care of you the way you deserved. That the call was good, that everything was how it had to be. Then we would hang up and do it all again the next day. Your midwife was my midwife twice and now she is my mentor because I trust her. I trust her knowledge and her sincerity and her willingness to make the hard decisions. I trust her to train me to be a good midwife. I trust that she will always put health and wellbeing before wishes and plans because that is a midwifes job.
It’s harder for us because you come to us expecting something you can’t get from a hospital birth, even a natural one. It’s not like expecting a hospital birth and being pleasantly surprised you got something different. And because of that sometimes really hard decisions have to be made. But a midwife, unlike a lot of physicians has to care for the physical health and the emotional wellbeing of her client with every decision she has to make.
I was honored to attend your birth. I am sorry that it was different than what you wanted but I think you learned a lot about yourself that night and I learned a lot about your family and the fact that your family is a fortress of love and caring. I got to see you have a dream and have to change it during the making and do so with grace and acceptance. I saw your daughter become aware of what true marriage and womanhood and intimacy is all about. I saw your mother and sister stand by your dreams and a team of women gather to circle you and support you and focus only on you as you tried to reach it, and I saw them gather you in love and concern when it became apparent that your dream would not be realized and I shared tears with a midwife who truly was sadden by the loss of that dream.
But you shined mama. Your strength lit the night, your determination lit your eyes, the love you share with your husband could light fires and you glowed with the miracle of your son and I was a witness to it all and for that I am truly, truly grateful. I will never forget your birth.
To catch up on this pregnancy and the story of his birth, please go here The story of Chayden King Campbell
I want to take some time this week and reflect on his birth. The good and the bad. I will be posting a New birth story this week. I wanted to redo it after I have had a year to soak it in, to soak him in, to soak in all the love my village of friends and family have given him and I this past year.
I want to start off this week with a story that my beautiful friend Kristine wrote after Chayden was born. Kristine (at the time) was a helper ( Midwife in training) to my Midwife (Lisa Black) and although I had never met Kristine prior to my last month of pregnancy, she has became a part of me and a part of Chayden.
Kristine has left her glitter on my soul and along the way she managed she to sprinkle a bit on Chayden's as well and we are both better people for it.
This was written by Kristine and I read it at least every other week. Thank you my sweet friend for this memory.
Chayden King Campbell
By Kristine Tawater
Apprentice Midwife
In my 6 years as a birth doula I have written A LOT of birth stories about a lot of babies. But when you asked me to write one for you I sat in front of a blank screen for quite a while. Because this birth story; to me wasn’t so much about the actual happenings of the birth of a baby to me. It’s easy to mark the happenings in timed increments…what happened when and so on.
But this was a different sort of story for me for many different reasons. First I was not as familiar with your family as I would have been as a doula. This was one of my first births as an apprentice midwife and so I saw things in a different light. But you, you were different too. And you had your own light.
You had a plan for this birth because you really really love your baby. Your plan was to bring him quietly and peacefully and gently into this world. You learned about homebirth, I assume from a home birthing friend and you made a careful choice to hire a midwife and birth this baby in your home.
But as we all know, plans are not rigid, they must bend to the will of everything but our own desires. And your desires and your will bent far past where you thought it could.
Your labor was slow to start. But slow can be a good thing. I think it kind of threw you off a little because of having birthed 4 others before. But you did it well. When I got to your house, things had slowed a bit and your confidence was a little shaky I think. I think you were tired after bouts of prodromal labor. I think your mind was ready for your body to get the show on the road! Your spirit was well. So we just chilled out and watched your changes. You took a walk with Natasha & your husband to try and kick start things. We ate dinner & I got to meet Autumn.
As things progressed your daughter started to stay by my side quite a bit and I could see in her a dawning. Her eyes were witness to what it is at the very core of being a woman. She is a wonderful creature and it was the most fascinating experience!
The lights were dimmed and trying to follow your birth plan, Lisa and I stayed out of the room as much as possible to give you the quiet intimacy that you longed for in this very new kind of birth experience, far removed from bright sterile hospital lighting. Your room was warm, dimly candle lit that put a beautiful amber glow throughout the room and the candles smelled lovely.
You labored on your ball rocking and swaying and leaning against the bed. The baby always sounded good, he was happy during labor.
I loved that your sense of humor was not thwarted by labor. It was so fun to see someone so obviously laboring hard quip jokes and sarcasm and to see a woman genuinely enjoying the experience, even the pain. Your husband was there, a quiet but rock steady support. He just flowed with you, he didn’t seem out of place or nervous as some dads tend to do, he just looked at you with the purest form of admiration and love I think I have ever seen. He is solid. He held your hand and didn’t move for the longest periods of time, I knew he must be uncomfortable but he wasn’t going anywhere because simply- you needed him where he was. And so he stayed.
Autumn, I smile every time I think of her. She has gentleness to her. She has concern and empathy and that deep seeded desire to comfort that every mother has. Her desire to hold you up through labor was enormous. She asked me questions in quiet whispers, What is happening? Is this Ok? What should I do? How do I help my mom?
She would watch me and Tasha and Jason and she would mimic beautifully. Then she found herself. She found her rhythm and she found the woman she will someday be. She held your hand, she rubbed your back and your arms and looked at you with sheer adoration. She was never frightened of the sounds and the seriousness. And God love that girl she stayed awake until sleep claimed her for its own and I tucked her in a chair with a warm blanket and told her to rest. That I would wake her if anything important happened. She was terrified she would miss the birth! But I think the most amazing thing about her is what she saw between you and Jason. The love, the trust, the intimacy that is birth. I think birth is the second most intimate thing you do as a woman and the first is the reason you got there. So for her to experience the intimacy of a solid marriage will forever stick in her head about what love really is. You gave her a gift.
Through labor, things progressed slowly but surely with nothing standing out to us as caregivers. The labor was normal. I know this is probably where you have the questions. I think your bag of waters broke around 11:00-11:30 and soon thereafter you began to make the sounds of birth. The low, grunting pushing working sounds all mothers make. Jason was there, your mom and sister and sweet Autumn was awake.
You tried some pushes, went to the bathroom and pushed a little more. Chayden sounded happy and all was well. So we tried some different positions with Dr.Pam making adjustments. You squatted and pushed, Jason held you up, I gave you a rope to try and you pushed. When you got tired, you pushed on the side of the bed, on top of the bed laying on your side and you pushed hard.
After a little while, you kind of expect a baby to be close in a 5th time mom. But he didn’t seem to be coming down to meet us. I tried everything I knew as a doula and a few things I had seen work in other births. I watched Lisa closely and we listened to what Chayden was telling us and he was getting tired.
We pulled out the O2 to help give you and Chayden a boost and it seemed to be what he needed. HE seemed to bounce back well after contractions and pushes with the oxygen. Autumn stayed right by your head holding the mask and never taking her hand off you. As I watched the experience of Lisa and Bonnie I felt the decision coming. It was about 12:00 midnight. Lisa checked again to see if she could determine what was hanging your boy up and then Bonnie did the same so they could compare. They did not think he was posterior but both said his position made it hard to tell. There was some concern in their eyes because you were getting so tired through all this hard work.
Finally I knew Lisa was about to say it. She told you that she didn’t think this birth was going to happen at home. That Chayden was ok but he was tired and you were tired and you needed to make a decision regarding going to the hospital to get your boy. I knew you would be brokenhearted but you were really, really resolved to do what needed to be done for your baby regardless of what your wishes were. This is the hallmark of a true home birthing mama. You want home birth, you need homebirth, but when the baby changes the plan, you go to where you need to go to have a healthy baby.
Once the decision was made, we packed the things we needed, prepared the cars and left. I assured Autumn that everything was fine but sometimes babies need more help than we can give at home. She was afraid but she was so very brave and Jason, was again a rock.
Now, I have wondered before why you would want to live so far away from “everything” and on following Tasha to the hospital I now know it is because living by the Motor Speedway is the only place her driving skills can be fully appreciated. :o) So we flew to the hospital and though I wasn’t in the car with you I knew this was the physically hardest ride you have probably ever been on.
We arrived at the hospital about 12:30am to the flurry of OMG from the nursing staff that the homebirths arrived. I don’t know why this is always such a cause for alarm. But we were given a room and went thru the rushed intake, and the whole while your baby boy was strong though he needed to be born. Jason stood by your side and whispered to you and stroked you and comforted you and helped you through until it was time to go. He never faltered.
After the decision was made to go to surgery, you were taken away and Jason was left in the room with us for a while. That man loves you. Real true love. He held it together beautifully because he was afraid for his wife and his baby but he was rock solid when you needed him and he would have never let you see his worry. We talked to him, giving him a rundown of what to expect and tried to help him calm his fears a bit before they came for him too. Dr Cummings showed up all cool calm and collected and said he would step in but then the on call doc came in and took over.
When you both left. The room just deflated. Transport is hard on the family, but it is hard on the midwife too. Did I make the right call? Did I make it soon enough? Who is taking care of my client now and are they treating her with kindness? What the heck is going on back there? Everyone in the room prayed.
I prayed for you and I prayed for Chayden and I prayed for the burden that Lisa was now shouldering. Lisa prayed and Tasha prayed and we lifted you to God for his protection.
Then we got the word! Oh joyous praise for a healthy baby boy and mama! Over the next little bit we learned that it was indeed a good call. That tangled up flexed back stubborn boy was not going to come out the traditional way and we were all so relieved that you were all ok. I think all the air and adrenaline we had been living on rushed out of the room and we all just collapsed & waited for the ok to see you.
Over the next few days, I want you to know that Lisa and I talked every single day for probably 6 hours going over and over every detail of your birth. She needs to make sure she did it all right, that she took care of you the way you deserved. That the call was good, that everything was how it had to be. Then we would hang up and do it all again the next day. Your midwife was my midwife twice and now she is my mentor because I trust her. I trust her knowledge and her sincerity and her willingness to make the hard decisions. I trust her to train me to be a good midwife. I trust that she will always put health and wellbeing before wishes and plans because that is a midwifes job.
It’s harder for us because you come to us expecting something you can’t get from a hospital birth, even a natural one. It’s not like expecting a hospital birth and being pleasantly surprised you got something different. And because of that sometimes really hard decisions have to be made. But a midwife, unlike a lot of physicians has to care for the physical health and the emotional wellbeing of her client with every decision she has to make.
I was honored to attend your birth. I am sorry that it was different than what you wanted but I think you learned a lot about yourself that night and I learned a lot about your family and the fact that your family is a fortress of love and caring. I got to see you have a dream and have to change it during the making and do so with grace and acceptance. I saw your daughter become aware of what true marriage and womanhood and intimacy is all about. I saw your mother and sister stand by your dreams and a team of women gather to circle you and support you and focus only on you as you tried to reach it, and I saw them gather you in love and concern when it became apparent that your dream would not be realized and I shared tears with a midwife who truly was sadden by the loss of that dream.
But you shined mama. Your strength lit the night, your determination lit your eyes, the love you share with your husband could light fires and you glowed with the miracle of your son and I was a witness to it all and for that I am truly, truly grateful. I will never forget your birth.
 |
| Kristine and I and Jason during labor |
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Father of mine
I seriously never talk about my father. I was under one when he left or when my mom left, whatever. I at times would visit my grandparents and my aunts and cousins (all on my father's side) but rarely did I see my father. My mom and I left Arizona when I was 9 and moved to Texas. Once there the visits with that side of the family became few and far between.
I did visit right after I had The Boy in 1994 and have a picture of my father holding his first grandson. I didn't visit again until I was 23 and about 3 months pregnant with The Brain (2nd child), my grandfather was dying and did so while I was there. I have not seen my father since. He does not know any of my children, his grandchildren. I am his only child, I have his only grandchildren.
Growing up I never even really thought about the lack of father figure, my mother more than made up for it. It wasn't until I had my own children that I just did not understand why there was no effort on his part to see me.
I mean really what was and what is stopping him?
About a year ago I reconnected with my cousins on my father's side via facebook. It has been wonderful, it has made my heart a bit fuller and my soul shines a little more. But is also brings more questions, you see my father has seen my facebook (My cousin's have showed him)and gets to see his grandkids. He knows all kinds of things about me and my family and has yet to reach out to me. I don't think its fair, honestly I don't think he deserves it.
I am in no way upset at my cousins for letting him in on my life via the Internet. That is their uncle and they have a relationship with him. But you see I don't - I have no connection to him other than the DNA that flows through me. Is that not a bit weird? He has every way imaginable to contact me and does not. He has 5 GRANDCHILDREN and he has never attempted to know them.
Honestly, I am ANGRY. I thought that if I just pretended he did not exist that would make all this better. It doesn't and I am tired of telling my children that I am sorry that they do not know him. Why would I apologize to my children for his lack of effort? His overall lack of humanity.
When the question "Who is your dad, mommy?" came up when The Boy was 5 (my oldest), I answered honestly and showed him pics (the last one I have of him is when I was about a year old) and I explained to him that he was not a part of my life. I even showed him the picture of him with his granddad. He never really asked why he was not part of my life or his.
Time passed and the same question came from my 2nd born and then My Diva was born and she asked as well. The same answer given to each of them. The Diva has asked the most and recently she asked me when my dad dies, will someone call and tell me?
Of course leave it to that girl to bring me to my knees. I really had not thought about that, or maybe I had and just decided not to anymore. I told her that I was sure I would be notified. Praying that she would not dig any deeper, but she did. She asked if I was going to cry when he died. I told her yes, of course I would, he is my father and everyone cries at their father's funeral. She seemed please with that answer and that was it.
I suppose I would cry at his funeral, I am not heartless. I don't think the tears would come from the same place as if I had known him. I think had I known him, the tears I would shed would be for me, for my loss. But since I have no connection to him, what exactly would I be losing? The tears that I would shed will be for him, his loss. His life spent not knowing me and his only grandchildren. I would cry because I could not imagine living my entire life knowing I had a daughter, knowing I had 5 amazing grandchildren and making not one single effort to reach out and gain some connection.
So when The Wild Man and The Baby ask (as I know they will), They will get the same answer as my older ones, except this time I won't apologize for him not being here. I didn't have anything to do with that.
I did visit right after I had The Boy in 1994 and have a picture of my father holding his first grandson. I didn't visit again until I was 23 and about 3 months pregnant with The Brain (2nd child), my grandfather was dying and did so while I was there. I have not seen my father since. He does not know any of my children, his grandchildren. I am his only child, I have his only grandchildren.
Growing up I never even really thought about the lack of father figure, my mother more than made up for it. It wasn't until I had my own children that I just did not understand why there was no effort on his part to see me.
I mean really what was and what is stopping him?
About a year ago I reconnected with my cousins on my father's side via facebook. It has been wonderful, it has made my heart a bit fuller and my soul shines a little more. But is also brings more questions, you see my father has seen my facebook (My cousin's have showed him)and gets to see his grandkids. He knows all kinds of things about me and my family and has yet to reach out to me. I don't think its fair, honestly I don't think he deserves it.
I am in no way upset at my cousins for letting him in on my life via the Internet. That is their uncle and they have a relationship with him. But you see I don't - I have no connection to him other than the DNA that flows through me. Is that not a bit weird? He has every way imaginable to contact me and does not. He has 5 GRANDCHILDREN and he has never attempted to know them.
Honestly, I am ANGRY. I thought that if I just pretended he did not exist that would make all this better. It doesn't and I am tired of telling my children that I am sorry that they do not know him. Why would I apologize to my children for his lack of effort? His overall lack of humanity.
When the question "Who is your dad, mommy?" came up when The Boy was 5 (my oldest), I answered honestly and showed him pics (the last one I have of him is when I was about a year old) and I explained to him that he was not a part of my life. I even showed him the picture of him with his granddad. He never really asked why he was not part of my life or his.
Time passed and the same question came from my 2nd born and then My Diva was born and she asked as well. The same answer given to each of them. The Diva has asked the most and recently she asked me when my dad dies, will someone call and tell me?
Of course leave it to that girl to bring me to my knees. I really had not thought about that, or maybe I had and just decided not to anymore. I told her that I was sure I would be notified. Praying that she would not dig any deeper, but she did. She asked if I was going to cry when he died. I told her yes, of course I would, he is my father and everyone cries at their father's funeral. She seemed please with that answer and that was it.
I suppose I would cry at his funeral, I am not heartless. I don't think the tears would come from the same place as if I had known him. I think had I known him, the tears I would shed would be for me, for my loss. But since I have no connection to him, what exactly would I be losing? The tears that I would shed will be for him, his loss. His life spent not knowing me and his only grandchildren. I would cry because I could not imagine living my entire life knowing I had a daughter, knowing I had 5 amazing grandchildren and making not one single effort to reach out and gain some connection.
So when The Wild Man and The Baby ask (as I know they will), They will get the same answer as my older ones, except this time I won't apologize for him not being here. I didn't have anything to do with that.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Now all you have is a lizard with poop on it.
You could say that the way Big daddy and I parent our gaggle of children is at times unconventional. I am alot of times a hard ass and have to remind myself (alot) to bring that down a level. I just see so many parents that coddle their kids and constantly make sure that things are fair. I think that is a huge disservice to your kids. At some point they need to fall on their little asses, get kicked a few times on the way down and learn to fight their way back up.
Now before you call me mean (this happened a few weeks ago, my Diva's friend and another little girl told Diva that I was mean) know that with all the REAL life treatment my kids get, they are also hugged and kissed and I sniff their heads every day.
Sometimes, you just have to let them learn. There have been times that my "Mother Lion" instinct had to be roped up and thrown into the basement.
For example:
When The Boy was playing 6th grade football and was disrespectful to his coach - he had to pay the consequences of that action. He did this by doing 100 "burpees" (kinda like a jump squat push up thing) on the ground that was loaded with big Texas sized stickers. When I pulled up to practice to pick him up, the coach told me what happened and what his punishment was. The Boy was crying and his hands were bleeding and he was embarrassed. My mother heart went into rage but my mother brain said "chill woman, he will live and he will learn from it." He lived through it, his hands were scratched up for a few days and his ego mended. He learned to keep his mouth shut and a bit of the boy was gone but in its place a fine young man was brewing.
A few weeks ago "Wild man" (6yrs) asked for a Chameleon - Not a goldfish or puppy or even a hedgehog, but a CHAMELEON. Thanks Bindi the Jungle girl. I without hesitation said "NNNOOOOO" He without hesitation CRIED. The Wild Man is a crier. Unless you are missing body parts, I do not handle crying well. Big daddy said " Explain to him why he can't have a Chameleon, don't just destroy his dreams. So now I am MEAN and a Dream Destroyer. The explanation went a little something like this.
Me: Why do you want a chameleon?
Wild man: cause they are cool and awesome and they can match your clothes
Me: match your clothes? what?
Wild man: You know they turn colors that match you
Me: got it - won't that make it easy to lose?
Wild man: no - I'll put a collar and leash on it
Me: do they make collars and leashes for chameleons
Wild man: Yes, Bindi the Jungle girl has one
Me: She lives in a zoo, its easy to have a chameleon in a zoo but at home it would be hard
wild man: Can we live in a zoo?
Me: Listen, let me tell you what is going to happen to that Chameleon. One day its gonna get out of its cage and hide in the bathroom. You will be going poop and grab some toilet paper, the chameleon will have color changed and matched the toilet paper, you then will accidentally wipe your butt with the chameleon. Now all you have is a lizard with poop on it. Do you want that?
Wild man: stares at me with a look of horror on his face - then he cries.
big daddy: staring at me with a look of horror on his face as well - just shakes his head. I think he wanted to cry to.
All talk about wanting a Chameleon is over and I have blocked Bindi the Jungle girl from all our TVs.
Now before you call me mean (this happened a few weeks ago, my Diva's friend and another little girl told Diva that I was mean) know that with all the REAL life treatment my kids get, they are also hugged and kissed and I sniff their heads every day.
Sometimes, you just have to let them learn. There have been times that my "Mother Lion" instinct had to be roped up and thrown into the basement.
For example:
When The Boy was playing 6th grade football and was disrespectful to his coach - he had to pay the consequences of that action. He did this by doing 100 "burpees" (kinda like a jump squat push up thing) on the ground that was loaded with big Texas sized stickers. When I pulled up to practice to pick him up, the coach told me what happened and what his punishment was. The Boy was crying and his hands were bleeding and he was embarrassed. My mother heart went into rage but my mother brain said "chill woman, he will live and he will learn from it." He lived through it, his hands were scratched up for a few days and his ego mended. He learned to keep his mouth shut and a bit of the boy was gone but in its place a fine young man was brewing.
A few weeks ago "Wild man" (6yrs) asked for a Chameleon - Not a goldfish or puppy or even a hedgehog, but a CHAMELEON. Thanks Bindi the Jungle girl. I without hesitation said "NNNOOOOO" He without hesitation CRIED. The Wild Man is a crier. Unless you are missing body parts, I do not handle crying well. Big daddy said " Explain to him why he can't have a Chameleon, don't just destroy his dreams. So now I am MEAN and a Dream Destroyer. The explanation went a little something like this.
Me: Why do you want a chameleon?
Wild man: cause they are cool and awesome and they can match your clothes
Me: match your clothes? what?
Wild man: You know they turn colors that match you
Me: got it - won't that make it easy to lose?
Wild man: no - I'll put a collar and leash on it
Me: do they make collars and leashes for chameleons
Wild man: Yes, Bindi the Jungle girl has one
Me: She lives in a zoo, its easy to have a chameleon in a zoo but at home it would be hard
wild man: Can we live in a zoo?
Me: Listen, let me tell you what is going to happen to that Chameleon. One day its gonna get out of its cage and hide in the bathroom. You will be going poop and grab some toilet paper, the chameleon will have color changed and matched the toilet paper, you then will accidentally wipe your butt with the chameleon. Now all you have is a lizard with poop on it. Do you want that?
Wild man: stares at me with a look of horror on his face - then he cries.
big daddy: staring at me with a look of horror on his face as well - just shakes his head. I think he wanted to cry to.
All talk about wanting a Chameleon is over and I have blocked Bindi the Jungle girl from all our TVs.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Mommy is having surgery
I have been asked several times here lately just how I have went about explaining my upcoming surgery to my gaggle of children.
First off I never even though about hiding any of it from them. It is just too big of a recovery to do that.
The oldest 3 (16,13 &10) - I simply told them the truth. I told them what I was having done and why I was doing it. I laid out how the recovery will most likely go and what they can expect from me during it. I also told them what I expected of them. My oldest boys wanted to know exactly what a tummy tuck was and how it was performed. I told them, every gruesome detail. My daughter (10) didn't really ask any questions. She asked if she could stay home from school and take care of me. How sweet, ya right, any excuse to miss school.
My 6yr old knows that I will have a cut and some stitches but that is about it. I have prepared him by reminding how it was after baby was born (almost a year ago) and he gets that.
I think what you tell your children is up to you and how old your children are. It also depends on the mood of your house. We are a very open family. Things are discussed openly, they all know that Big Daddy and I have an open door policy when it comes to touchy subject matters.
I worried about the impact this decision would have on the self esteem of my daughter. Hoping that by me electing to have plastic surgery, would that make her feel the need to have to look perfect, feel perfect, be perfect.
I decided to open up that subject with her one day, I said "Diva, you know that you don't have to worry about your body right now?" "You are beautiful just the way you are" Diva answered with " I am aren't I?"
I don't think her self esteem has been damaged at all.
First off I never even though about hiding any of it from them. It is just too big of a recovery to do that.
The oldest 3 (16,13 &10) - I simply told them the truth. I told them what I was having done and why I was doing it. I laid out how the recovery will most likely go and what they can expect from me during it. I also told them what I expected of them. My oldest boys wanted to know exactly what a tummy tuck was and how it was performed. I told them, every gruesome detail. My daughter (10) didn't really ask any questions. She asked if she could stay home from school and take care of me. How sweet, ya right, any excuse to miss school.
My 6yr old knows that I will have a cut and some stitches but that is about it. I have prepared him by reminding how it was after baby was born (almost a year ago) and he gets that.
I think what you tell your children is up to you and how old your children are. It also depends on the mood of your house. We are a very open family. Things are discussed openly, they all know that Big Daddy and I have an open door policy when it comes to touchy subject matters.
I worried about the impact this decision would have on the self esteem of my daughter. Hoping that by me electing to have plastic surgery, would that make her feel the need to have to look perfect, feel perfect, be perfect.
I decided to open up that subject with her one day, I said "Diva, you know that you don't have to worry about your body right now?" "You are beautiful just the way you are" Diva answered with " I am aren't I?"
I don't think her self esteem has been damaged at all.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Journey back to me
I'll be at www.scarymommy.com tomorrow. She was cool enough let me do a little guest posting for her. See you there.
Friday, January 7, 2011
2 shots of heroin and a vibrator
Today is a day for random thoughts. I'll share bits and pieces of my brain activity for the week, if I gave you the full stories your head might just blow up. Your welcome.
** I have literally changed the shape of my body since my first consult in August with "Dr. Obaby" and I see him this coming Tuesday for my preop. At my consult they took before pics. I am totally demanding a redo this Tuesday. When he ask me to get all naked and stand in front of the mirror of truth this time, I better get a high five or a nice slap on the ass at the work I have done in the gym in the past 6 months. If not, I might throat punch him. **
** I am pretty excited that something I wrote will be posted on "Scary Mommy" on Monday (10th) - she rocks my maternal instinct right off. Check her out - if you don't fall in love with her and her writing then I will have to break up with you. **
** I took my 2 best whores (that is what I call my bestest friends- its ok - they like it.) to North Texas Tattoo and they each got their nose pierced. I got mine done a few months back and they were all like "Oh Anna we love it, we want to do it too" So I was like HELL yes, let's go. Thursday's are $10 piercing (above the waist - just in case I have freak ass whores reading this) We went, I was honest with how it was done. It's not painful just weird and shocking. A bit of blood and tears (whiny whores) and it was over in like 15 seconds. They look good. **
** While writing this I realized that my tattoo/piercing place and my plastic surgery place are named the same thing. North Texas Tattoo and North Texas Plastic Surgery. Hmmm. weird **
** I will be 36 years old next month and I am dealing with facial breakouts like a 16 year old would. WTF? **
** My daughter is dealing with some crazy, vicious headaches. We have spent the last 2 weeks trying to figure it out. Yesterday was our 3rd ER visit. Her primary doctor sent us to the ER that morning and ordered a MRI and MRA - got to the ER at Dallas Childrens Hospital. Basically all they did was talk and talk and consult and then after 6 hours they decided to refer her to their neurology department and order the MRI. When? I am not sure, they will call you tomorrow and set up your appointment. I straight out asked them to do an MRI right then and there. They looked at me like I had asked for 2 shots of heroin and a vibrator. **
Have a kick ass weekend and Don't forget to check out Scary Mommy and look for my guest post. It should be pretty bad ass as far as guest posting goes.
** I have literally changed the shape of my body since my first consult in August with "Dr. Obaby" and I see him this coming Tuesday for my preop. At my consult they took before pics. I am totally demanding a redo this Tuesday. When he ask me to get all naked and stand in front of the mirror of truth this time, I better get a high five or a nice slap on the ass at the work I have done in the gym in the past 6 months. If not, I might throat punch him. **
** I am pretty excited that something I wrote will be posted on "Scary Mommy" on Monday (10th) - she rocks my maternal instinct right off. Check her out - if you don't fall in love with her and her writing then I will have to break up with you. **
** I took my 2 best whores (that is what I call my bestest friends- its ok - they like it.) to North Texas Tattoo and they each got their nose pierced. I got mine done a few months back and they were all like "Oh Anna we love it, we want to do it too" So I was like HELL yes, let's go. Thursday's are $10 piercing (above the waist - just in case I have freak ass whores reading this) We went, I was honest with how it was done. It's not painful just weird and shocking. A bit of blood and tears (whiny whores) and it was over in like 15 seconds. They look good. **
** While writing this I realized that my tattoo/piercing place and my plastic surgery place are named the same thing. North Texas Tattoo and North Texas Plastic Surgery. Hmmm. weird **
** I will be 36 years old next month and I am dealing with facial breakouts like a 16 year old would. WTF? **
** My daughter is dealing with some crazy, vicious headaches. We have spent the last 2 weeks trying to figure it out. Yesterday was our 3rd ER visit. Her primary doctor sent us to the ER that morning and ordered a MRI and MRA - got to the ER at Dallas Childrens Hospital. Basically all they did was talk and talk and consult and then after 6 hours they decided to refer her to their neurology department and order the MRI. When? I am not sure, they will call you tomorrow and set up your appointment. I straight out asked them to do an MRI right then and there. They looked at me like I had asked for 2 shots of heroin and a vibrator. **
Have a kick ass weekend and Don't forget to check out Scary Mommy and look for my guest post. It should be pretty bad ass as far as guest posting goes.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
How chicken lettuce wraps saved my children
Actually at first the Chicken lettuce wrap nearly brought each of them to their death (except the baby - he could throw crap at you and you would smile - HE.IS.THAT.CUTE)
It all started with me and my grand idea of not only getting back to our weekly (M-F) dinner menu plan - which usually works out well for everyone - I had to go and kill a part of my childrens soul by telling them that I was going to split them up into 2 groups (when I type that it makes it sound like I collect children and organize them by group - weird...) and each group would be responsible for making dinner - with assistance- 2 nights per week per group.
This news was met with the biggest, whiniest bunch of bull shit I have ever heard or seen. One of them cried, one of them layed on the floor and curled into the fetal position and one actually asked if this was now an army camp. An army camp? My head snapped around so fast that I am fairly sure I have whiplash.
There was eye rolling, deep and heavy sighs followed by the one single word that makes me lose all maternal instinct WHYYYYYY. Of course I reply to that with "BECAUSE.I.SAID.SO." Which is totally Lame but that comeback has been used for centuries, in fact I am pretty sure it is in the bible somewhere, so who am I to question God.
Of course after realizing the severity of their actions and witnessing my head actually coming loose of my neck and rotating with hurricane force around the house, speaking in tongue or possibly spanish and calling all of them by their complete birth names - there were apologies made and the first group (not weird at all) promptly got out the recipe and all needed ingredients and prepared the most tastiest Sesame Chicken lettuce wraps.
Then something miraculous happened. Even more miraculous than the profile of Jesus appearing in a grilled cheese sandwich. We all sat down and ate and not one of my minions complained. Even the crap throwing baby grubbed down.
To show that I did indeed appreciate their change in ways, I made them all banana splits. Which is really hard to do when your head is no longer attached to your neck.
Adios!
It all started with me and my grand idea of not only getting back to our weekly (M-F) dinner menu plan - which usually works out well for everyone - I had to go and kill a part of my childrens soul by telling them that I was going to split them up into 2 groups (when I type that it makes it sound like I collect children and organize them by group - weird...) and each group would be responsible for making dinner - with assistance- 2 nights per week per group.
This news was met with the biggest, whiniest bunch of bull shit I have ever heard or seen. One of them cried, one of them layed on the floor and curled into the fetal position and one actually asked if this was now an army camp. An army camp? My head snapped around so fast that I am fairly sure I have whiplash.
There was eye rolling, deep and heavy sighs followed by the one single word that makes me lose all maternal instinct WHYYYYYY. Of course I reply to that with "BECAUSE.I.SAID.SO." Which is totally Lame but that comeback has been used for centuries, in fact I am pretty sure it is in the bible somewhere, so who am I to question God.
Of course after realizing the severity of their actions and witnessing my head actually coming loose of my neck and rotating with hurricane force around the house, speaking in tongue or possibly spanish and calling all of them by their complete birth names - there were apologies made and the first group (not weird at all) promptly got out the recipe and all needed ingredients and prepared the most tastiest Sesame Chicken lettuce wraps.
Then something miraculous happened. Even more miraculous than the profile of Jesus appearing in a grilled cheese sandwich. We all sat down and ate and not one of my minions complained. Even the crap throwing baby grubbed down.
To show that I did indeed appreciate their change in ways, I made them all banana splits. Which is really hard to do when your head is no longer attached to your neck.
Adios!
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