Wordless Wednesday: racecar driver

play a game?

whats iss do?

like this okay

screeech

Ollie dood it

I have this theory...

Crafted over the years with the help of some good friends.

Erasure Theory: When you have a bad experience, you can recreate the scene in an enjoyable setting, in order to erase the offending memory.

Example: Say you have a crappy time with someone (usually an ex-boyfriend or girlfriend) while drinking Captain Morgan's/bird watching/eating at McDonald's. Now, every time you drink Captain/see a bird/eat a Happy Meal, you think of this person and whatever unpleasant memory that has attached itself to this event.

In order to prevent this from happening again, make a point of slightly changing the situation to have a good time, thereby erasing the bad time. Drink Captain Morgan's with your best friend. Go out and sit in a park and watch birds on a bright, clear, sunny summer day. Eat at McDonald's with your Grandma.

Notable use: Friends, The One With The 'Cuffs:

Monica: You bet that I'd screw up? All that stuff about hiring me because I was good was...
Mrs. Geller: No no no, that was all true. This was just in case you pulled a Monica.

Phoebe: Just change what it means, you know. Go down there and prove your mother wrong. You finish the job you were hired to do, and we'll call that, "pulling a Monica."
Monica: What?
Phoebe: Okay, um, if a kid gets straight A's, his parents would say, "Yeah, he pulled a Monica!" Or a fireman saves a baby, and they go, "Yeah I know, he pulled a Monica. Whew." Or someone hits a home run, the announcer says "Yeah, that one's outta here." 'Cause somethings don't change.

I think the most important part of this "theory" is to be mentally aware of the new situation. Be totally, purposefully in the new moment. You get to decide what means what to you. If you want to stop thinking about that bad thing that happened, or like me, if you tend to dwell on what could have or should have been... give yourself a do-over!

As my mom says, "The place to be happy is here. The time to be happy is now." Why wait?

fly along with me

This has got to be one of the funniest music videos of all time. I just watched twice in a row.

If you needed a laugh today... you're welcome.

Happy Foo Fighters Friday!

that time we went to Florida...

...was in April. :)

obviously very happy to be eating strawberries for breakfast by the pool, be in the water with mommy and daddy, and play ball while sitting on the big raft.

at the beach for the first time. he did like it, eating sand and jumping the waves were his very favorite parts.

I don't know everything, but I know what I want.

I still read lots of articles and blogs about birth.

Ever since I experienced it, I feel close to it, like that magical motherhood club that you are automatically initiated into, I am now part of the natural (med-free) birth club. Even that right there, the re-defining of natural birth, is something I've only learned since giving birth. Some people define natural birth as simply delivering vaginally. There is a whole other community of people trying to change this definition, or at least reinforce that 'natural' means so much more. Natural birth can be a wonderful thing that leaves you feeling like you can take on the world, and I would know. Many studies and stories have taught me that having a med-free birth is better for breastfeeding too, since the baby and mother have no drugs in their system (except of course for the natural endorphin rush).

(Let me stop right here to say: I am not trying to change anyone's mind about their pregnancy, birth or feeding choices. If you're planning an induction? You're having a baby! Joy! As long as you feed your baby? Breast or bottle - you're a GREAT parent! I believe that moms should just support each other.)

I am by no means judging anyone whose choices are different than mine. What I'm trying to get into is the sadness I feel when I read about someone who wants to have a med-free labor and birth but gets pushed into interventions or even get things done to them without their consent or knowledge! Women who want to breastfeed but end up unable to because of unsupportive (or uneducated - a scary thought) hospital staff or because the pain of a c-section and recovery keep them from feeling comfortable with nursing.

I get that shit happens, things beyond our control sometimes will make medical interventions completely necessary. And honestly, thank God for them, because when needed they are there and can save lives.

The problem, in my eyes, is the lack of knowledge people seem to have about the whole thing. Can you really rely on the doctor to help you through the whole process? And if you do feel you can completely trust your doctor... does that mean that you don't need to have any research done, or any thoughts or ideas of your own? This is what upsets me, and has been clanging around in my brain over the past year and a half... why are women leaving their births up to someone else?

It is so common now for pregnant women to just assume that their caregivers (OB, Midwife, nurses, etc.) will always do what's in the best interest of the mother and baby. But when giving birth in a hospital, which is the standard - and birth centers or *gasp* home births are for hippies - it is unfortunately usually just a matter of doing what's routine for the doctors and nurses, not necessarily what the mother wants.

I've said before and I'll say again, I know I'm lucky to have such a great hospital nearby, and a wonderful OB and midwives in the practice I chose. But I also know that it's not necessarily everything it could be. A while after I wrote out my birth story, and after I dove into some online reading, I re-read it and was shocked to see my own words - in my rose-colored hindsight I had completely forgotten about the blown vein and the monitoring fiasco.

The first time I heard of a doula was in our birth class at the hospital, when the instructor said she was a post partum doula. At the time it didn't really sink in, but now I realize that's why it seemed like she only covered what she absolutely had to when it came to epidurals and IV medications. She flatly listed the available options, covered the risks, and answered questions. Most of the time was spent practicing breathing, visualization, and teaching the partners how to help. I thought it was weird at first, like why isn't she telling us more about the epidural? Isn't that what happens when you show up to the hospital in labor? (hahahahaha) I will forever be grateful to Lisa, although she may never know it, because she was the first one to help me begin to realize there are other options.

So? For next time? (No - I'm not pregnant) I'm excited. I'm going to the birth center. I'm birth-planning, breastfeeding, co-sleeping, and possibly even encapsulating my placenta.

Again, I'm not saying my ideal way is the only way, or that if someone chooses a voluntary (informed consent) c-section, that they're not doing what's best for them. I just think that there needs to be more dialogue, more communication, more information shared between patient and provider(s). Nothing is perfect (including this crazy mess of a post) but giving birth is too important to let go.

the mom pledge

So, I've been writing again. I have drafts. I have posts scheduled. It's been good for me, I'm exercising my brain a little bit, re-discovering how to nurture my creative side. I'm ready for BlogHer '12 now!

Anyway, here's one of the things I came across a few times but never checked out until now:

The Mom Pledge

I am a proud to be a mom. I will conduct myself with integrity in all my online activities. I can lead by example.

I pledge to treat my fellow moms with respect. I will acknowledge that there is no one, "right" way to be a good Mom. Each woman makes the choices best for her family.

I believe a healthy dialogue on important issues is a good thing. I will welcome differing opinions when offered in a respectful, non-judgmental manner. And will treat those who do so in kind.

I stand up against cyber bullying. My online space reflects who I am and what I believe in. I will not tolerate comments that are rude, condescending or disrespectful.

I refuse to give those who attack a platform. I will remove their remarks with no mention or response. I can take control.

I want to see moms work together to build one another up, not tear each other down. Words can be used as weapons. I will not engage in that behavior.

I affirm that we are a community. As a member, I will strive to foster goodwill among moms. Together, we can make a difference.

I plan on doing my part to be the kind of person that my son looks up to, and the kind of mom he deserves.

But also, I'm posting this to remind myself that it is so easy, in our quest to do what we think is right for our kids and by our standards, to start thinking somebody else's parenting is "wrong". I'm a mom, and so is she, and we all need support, on- and offline.

this is not the greatest ink in the world.

This is just a tribute.

This is not the greatest photo in the world, either. I know.

Oh, and, by "not the greatest ink" I am in no way saying anything about the quality of the tattoo.
I love it, it's perfectly exactly what I wanted/had pictured. (It's a quote.)

it was bound to happen

Oliver is a pretty good traveller. We drove 3 hours south this past weekend for my best friend's son's birthday party. We took a little break about 2 hours in, changed a diaper and ran around the rest area a bit, after which he crashed out for about 45 minutes.

have squeezy "appa sauce", will travel.

Despite getting a late start, we got there just a few minutes after the party started. It was SO CUTE - with Dr. Suess decorations and Cat in the Hat all over. (Oh! And Swedish Fish! Which I forgot to bring home. Boo.)

this is the only picture available for me to steal from Facebook.
yes, it was a first birthday party. yes the cake topper got fixed in time.

The party was lovely, all three babies in attendance were well behaved and (most importantly) they went to sleep without a fight leaving all parents free to enjoy each other's company (and beer) (and whisky slush).

Sunday morning was also full of happy, with three babies and 6 adults having breakfast and some good playtime.

wheee toys!

So after all the good time feelings and rainbow words, you know there has to be something, right? Right.

passed out with Lightning McQueen on his shoulder

We drove home shortly after lunch time, and Oliver fell alseep almost right away. As soon as he woke up, we stopped off at a McDonald's for a diaper change and some french fries.

When we were about half an hour from home Ollie looked at his daddy, held out his hand and said "what's iss?" And Nick said, "What is that? Let me have it..."

It was poop.

It had exploded out of the side of his diaper and down onto the car seat, of course. So I pulled the car over on a side street and get him out. Nick took him and changed his diaper and shorts, while I attempted to get the car seat cover off. Would. Not. Budge. I don't know what the hell I was doing wrong, or maybe if it was just because I wasn't the one who installed it, but I couldn't figure out how to get the cover off of the seat.

So Nick and I switched, and I watched Oliver (which meant keeping him from climbing all over the front seat and/or pushing too many vital buttons on the dashboard) while Nick got the cover off the seat. Turns out, you have to completely disconnect the seat from the car and thread the straps through the cushion and... let's just say there was poop everywhere.

We switched places once again so I could attempt to scrub as much poop as I could off of the straps and buckles before putting him in the seat again. There was a lot of poop.

Did I mention that during the 20 minutes or so that we were stopped on the side of the road it went from a light mist to full-on downpouring rain? Yeah.

I just have to say here that I am SO GLAD my husband is super awesome and dealt with the poop and carseat-challenged wife like a champ. All we could smell the rest of the way home was poo, obviously, but I really would have been sunk without him there.

We were never so happy to be home and see and smell Dial antibacterial soap!

thought I'd save my breath for you

More video! Yay!




I will have words next week.

Happy Foo Fighters Friday!

(oooh that's a good idea!)

dear Trent...

Happy Birthday to the sweet son of my best friend.

See you this weekend, Mason family!

moment

I am sitting in my chair. Our chair. The one we have both grown into, grown accustomed to. As he has grown, gotten heavier, the shape of our chair has changed, flattened out to make our spot.

I sit in our chair and I rock. I feel his chest rise and fall. I hear his breath in my left ear. He is almost asleep, I can tell by the rhythm of his breathing. I feel calm.

We rock, in our chair. My feet on the floor between the chair and the foot rest, just so.

I push us gently back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum. I am reminded of a clock. The slow, gentle passage of time.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I don't know how long we've been in our chair this evening.
I am reminded of another time, another chair.

A story I heard, joyously told about a moment in a chair.

She said it was the perfect grandma moment.

A tear slips down my cheek, lands on his perfect little shoulder.

He is so peaceful, angelic.

And so is she, now.

Wordless Wednesday: bounce house

Hey people.

I'm not quite ready for words again yet, so here's some fun for you - from just last night.



Oliver's daycare had a "carnival" open house last night. Can you feel the happy?