Mother Mayhem

A friend asked me how my day was going and I replied "I live in a sort of quiet crazy these days, one in which I crave coffee and a shower, nonstop." I wake up each morning with such optimism and verve, by mid afternoon my optimism has churned into a plea to the universe for quiet and a sandwich and by late evening I am reduced to an animal clothed in ill fitting maternity and/or pre-maternity clothes covered in sticky, dried milk and other fluids that aren't my own and hoping for enough time with two hands free to make a bowl of cereal. This is fret-filled life with a newborn. In between coos, gorgeous little hiccups, the sleepy smiles of a new person, and the adoring cuteness of siblings, are all the uncertain maintenance life with two children and a dog require.

I keep wondering what would make the first month easier; a magic swing of endless entertainment? an accurate prediction of sleep pattern? a third arm? I just can't find a solution to the chaotic breakdown of one's life after adding a brand new person to the household. It must be necessary to completely destroy any hope of order and fully embrace the bedlam before deciding how to rebuild schedules, relationships and goals.

Then, moments like this make everything totally easy.

Stark

The things you think you need when you have your first baby fill a book and the things you know you need with the second baby you can count on one hand.

Jack's favorite nap time laundry basket

A Labor Story

Preface: It's long. I want to get it all written so I remember and so other pregnant ladies can read a story that isn't so awful. There is not much gore.

Jack was late. 5 days late and the doctor wanted to induce labor. I read everything I could get my eyes on about induction and found an extreme amount of scary information on the internet. Horrible stories about Pitocin and c-sections, epidurals that didn't work, the whole schlemiel. So when I was sufficiently spooked I decided that the very minimal amount of induction was going to have to work. The doc said I'd go in on Wednesday night for the very minimum, Cervidil (a cervix softener) and if nothing happened by Thursday morning she'd start a tiny tiny bit of Pitocin to see if it would kick start labor and if that didn't work, we'd go from there.

This made me angry. When receiving any medication for labor, hospital policy is to keep you hooked up to every monitor ever invented to make sure you or the baby aren't stressing/palpitating/tensing/breathing/bloodpressuring too much or too little. These monitors are the instruments used to indicate when to start major abdominal surgery and pull that child out the front of you instead. So of course I placed all blame for c-sections squarely on the monitors (not the condition they report - silly really.) I have spent the last 9 months avoiding tight elastic around my circumference, so the last thing I wanted was two itchy straps around me tethering me to a beeping scribbling machine during what I was really hoping to be a magical hippy earth mother experience.

In short, I hated this plan, but the alternative was to wait until the contractions I had been feeling over the last two days could throw a party in which all of them showed up on time (within three minutes of each other) and did their worst. I sent out the invitations to the contractions after walking all day and night and lifting heavy things and eating spicy food and drinking raspberry teas with pineapple and every other thing you've read but the contractions popped in fashionably late to say hello and left for another better party somewhere else. We almost got a dance party going one morning when a bunch of them showed up all at once squeezing my insides to bits, but when I got tired and laid down, they got bored and left. So, I boarded the induction ship that I was certain would dock last at C-sectionville.

I went in on Tuesday to do a "pre-op" appointment. It had two parts. In the first part Billing makes sure they have all the information they need to stalk you for the next fifty years yelling "I want my two dollars!" in addition to asking you for $900.00 out of your pocket right then and there. I told them when they deliver the services I need, then I will have a look at the bill and give them some money but until I knew I would even make it to the hospital for labor I wasn't paying anything. Billing didn't want to be my BFF after that. I wasn't sad.

The second part consisted of me leaving some blood and me signing off on every procedure they could possibly need to do to a woman. I didn't sign everything. I just couldn't. Next to hysterectomy, cesarean, removal of all lady parts, lobotomy and a few others, I wrote "will have to discuss at the time of procedure" and initialed it. The nurse said "What if you're unconscious?" and I said "Then you'll have to talk to my husband" and she said "Does he have power of attorney?" and I said "He's... my husband." really slowly so that she could understand and she said "Oh - yeah" and left me alone after that. I also had to sign a piece of paper stating I would NOT like the doctor to take pictures of my abnormal/unusual/amazing/superb anatomy for later use in a text book/teaching hospital/ laughing at in the doctors lounge/sharing on Face book.

At this point I called my doctor and said I was having second thoughts about inducing and that all the preparation for the worst case scenario was not generating any confident in the success of these procedures. I said I didn't want to hear any more anecdotal stories about what happens during an induction or what can happen if you didn't do it and I needed cold hard statistics. She quoted some percentages and I said I'd have to think about it some more, but secretly I was whispering inward to the boy telling him that it was time and he'd better get a move on or he'd be in big trouble mister.

Wednesday night loomed. At 7:30pm, during the beginning of what was almost called tropical storm Bonnie (except the storm couldn't seem to get itself together anymore than my contractions) the hospital called. They said "Women are in labor everywhere and we're out of rooms tonight you can't come in, but we'll call you back when you can." The whole world was out in the streets partying it up, birthing babies left and right and I wasn't invited. I was disappointed but then relieved for the reprieve, a scant few more hours for things to get started on their own. I paced. I barely slept. They called back at 4:30am. They had room for me.

Dan got up for a shower, I told him to take his time. I lay in bed. I stood up to get ready and there was a contraction. I brushed my teeth, another. I double checked what I'd packed and another. I hoped for the best and we went to the hospital. Upon arrival the nurse said "Let's get you hooked up for Pitocin" I almost fainted just before I said "No, we're supposed to do other things first, less drastic things!" She explained it was too late for that and if I wanted to reschedule for Saturday night we could. This time Dan almost fainted. There was a great deal of preparation that went into what to do with the dog and Ella and my mom's flight and time off work, but he looked at me and said "Whatever you want to do." Then the nurse left and came back with the news that they already had 4 inductions scheduled for Saturday night and maybe they could fit me in on Sunday, oh wait Sunday is full too, how did Monday look? Then I got panicky thinking about waiting. I had prepared, I left the canoe on the bank hours ago and was ready to roll on down the river. I was ready to float or drown or scream while going over the falls. My head was spinning and the nurse said "Let's do an ultra sound first and see if that narrows our choices at all." I let the current float me to ultrasound room.

Our amniotic fluids were low, just 4 centimeters. This changed things and suddenly we needed to figure out a new plan today, that morning, right now. The options were a bit of Pitocin or having my water broken. At 7:30am I opted for the later, immediately sending me into productive and painful contractions. I was off the monitors. I walked. I sat on a birthing ball. I listened to soothing music. I got annoyed at the world. I found my happy place. I hummed. I rocked. I prayed.

I labored like that until I threw up during a big hard contraction and said "I can do this for another hour, how long do you think it's going to be?" The nurse said "maybe two or three" and I said "Get The guy." (The anesthesiologist aka the holy bringer of numbness.) My amazing

nurse asked me if I really wanted The guy. And we had a brief but very important discussion about my end goals. My end goals were a healthy baby and a stitch free labor. I explained that I wanted to labor under no anesthetic because I wanted to be able to change positions thus encouraging everything remain in tact at the end. This magnificent nurse told me the exact thing I needed to hear. If I had an epidural then I would probably have better control when pushing and when a woman has better control over her pushing she can give the doctor the time to do ice packs and mineral oils and the no stitch plan. I almost cried I loved her so much at that moment.

When The guy arrived I was moving through the contractions counting and breathing and humming. I greeted him with a smile of relief. He tried to do his part, inserting a tiny tube into my back and taping it all in place. Unbeknownst to anyone the thing fell out and I laid flat on my back through another forty-five minutes and at least dozen hard contractions waiting for the numbing to start. Those waves hurt more when the hit me because I couldn't move with them and I was on my back. I worked at controlled breaths with the instructions of the nurse and wailed and gripped the sides of the bed. This scared the hell out of my husband who could only stand by with words of encouragement. Next they called in the head of anesthesiology who came and redid the procedure. I had numbness within the minute.

Dan was as relieved as I and we calmly talked through the next hour and waited until my body did all the things it was supposed to do. When I was almost ready to push I learned my doctor had an emergency she was tending to. If I could wait another hour not only would my body finish moving the last little bit aside to make way for Jack but she could finish up and make it to my room. I agreed to hang on for as long as I could. My nurse reminded me of the surf scene in Forgetting Sarah Marshall and said "Do less." I used it as my mantra until my doc showed up and said "Let's go, he's right there." The rest was simple, three strategic, long hard pushes, no stitches, healthy baby, healthy me.

Meet Jack

Born on 7/8/10 at 3:20pm a healthy and content 7lbs 10oz and 20inches. We are all happy and healthy and tired. I will have more to say when I can get enough sleep to think beyond how joyous I am.

I Relate

"I am a Radical Homemaker failure" -BY MADELINE HOLLER

Friday

We are on our second day of rain here. It's been nice to just play indoor things with the kid.

***

I have no idea what we'll do for the 4th of July.

***

I'm just waiting.

Wimpiest Cops in the World Part II

Sgt. Steven Daman, Officer Juan Ornelas and Officer Donald Jones of Seattle, are off the hook for being the Wimpiest Cops in the World for tazing a pregnant lady during the issuance of a speeding ticket. Thomas Duran, Frank Tinga, Joseph Sandberg and John Does Nos. 1-10 (13 police officers from El Reno, Oklahoma) now get the distinction for tazing a 86 year old Granny on oxygen confined to a hospital bed, twice.

"According to officer Duran’s official report, Mrs Vernon had taken an 'aggressive posture' in her hospital bed." -full article here 'Don't taze my granny!' American police accused of using a Taser on an 86-year-old, bed-ridden grandmother

I wish it was a joke folks.

Dear Thomas Duran, Frank Tinga, Joseph Sandberg and John Does Nos. 1-10 of El Reno, Oklahoma, I hope you google yourselves and see that I think you are pathetic, wimpy excuses for protectors of the public. I hope your coworkers never let you live this down.

Chubby Cheeks

Reassurance

We got the cradle today. Mom sent it. It had a sock monkey in it from Rockford, my home town. We put it together. I unpacked little clothes and baby sheets. And the dog got fidgety. She laid near the cradle uncomfortably watching. While I moved things around in the closet and bustled about I heard the Kid telling the Dog

"Don't worry, I know it looks like a lot, but when the new baby comes even though there will be less time for us she will still love us."

Trees

I'm sitting in the dining room enjoying a coffee and watching the trees rustle around in the wind. The forest surrounds our apartment complex and it drowns out whatever city noises could waft in. It also has critters in it. So far I've seen more June Bugs in the parking lot than I've seen in my life, I've started "Lizard watch 2010" and am up to 7. The other night, a big brown Cockroach ran in the door and down the hallway with the dog chasing it towards me. It was so big, my first instinct was to scream "MOUSE!" This is what you get when you have trees and un-manicured wildness around you. I like it.

The last place had wood chips around every palm tree and rose bushes that were carefully monitored for productivity. When any plant failed to look it's best the daily gardeners would replace it with something more fruitful. The truck came through spraying great clouds of pesticides every few nights and the exterminator did around each building every week. It was pristine, like a hotel. It never felt like home to me. I need a little dirt and a name carved into the sidewalk, a glob of yellow bubble gum to avoid stepping on, tree roots sicking out of the dirt and interesting bugs that sound like maracas in the rustling leaves. I need a little wild around the edges.

Is it Thursday?

I have a head cold. I was hoping I wouldn't get it after it took Dan down for three nights last week, but alas it's seized my face and crawled inside and when Dan gets home tonight, I'm going to lay down and just wish for time to pass quickly. On the bright side, the new apartments are making my life sooo much easier, the kid is out there in the court yard playing with all the neighbor kids. Occasionally she runs in to use the facilities or cool down, I handed out a few popsicles once and the sidewalk chalk made an appearance but otherwise my involvement in today's play schedule has thankfully been cut. Thus freeing me up to work on getting my hardware all hooked up and blog while glancing out the window occasionally and wondering what they're talking about.

In other news, I went to the doc yesterday and she said I am not close to delivery yet, but this boy is about 6lbs and head down. She suspects he'll be about 8lbs when he's finally ready to make his debut. Besides the head cold, everything is normal and good. Mom is still planning to come down when I deliver to help out with Ella and let me get my bearings, thank God.

Apron Strings

The night before last, it stormed. It was super loud and close. Dan and I woke up and he went to check on Ella, she was sound asleep. Dan came back and we laid there in the dark listening to the atmosphere rumble and crack. He said "She's probably going to wake up soon and yell for one of us , do you want me to just go get her now?" after a moment of thought I said "Yeah, you're probably right." She didn't wake up when he brought her in and put her snuggled up between us. She didn't wake up when the dog snuck up into the bed and I gave in letting the frightened dog sleep on my feet. And the next morning Ella said "What storm?"

After the weekend

We're moved. Now the long slog of unpacking and finding things as well as the realization that our furniture was meant for a giant Victorian building in IL not a little modern place on the coast of TX. I will post pictures as soon as things a put away a little more.

***

I am pregnant "out to here!" (put your arms straight forward and make an exasperated face) I spend my time sleeping, fretting about unpacking and being mad about things. For instance it's June, in Texas and I'm pregnant out to there, and that should be cause enough to be mad.

***

One More Bedroom

We moved a few boxes today to the new apartment and started a checklist of things that need to be fixed (mostly cosmetic stuff.) Ella already scoped out her favorite swing at the playground in direct eye-site from my living room window and I found a nice place on the enclosed patio for my easel. I also walked around the wood floors in my bare feet and despite the AC being set at 78 and the 98 degree heat outside, the floor was nice and cool. Tomorrow the truck and the fellas from Dan's work arrive to do the big move.

I am not allowed to do much. When I stand too long or lift anything more than a gallon of milk, my belly tightens up and I have to lean over. Tomorrow I think I'll mostly be hanging out with the kid and the dog and packing up last minute things like tooth-brushes and the last few dishes, perhaps a little picture hanging (small pictures).

I'm excited, it seems every porch has tricycles and skateboards, the pool was full with kids yelling "watch this cannon ball!", one of the trees in the courtyard had a rope swing on it, my closet is almost as big as Dan's old office and there is clover mixed into the not overly landscaped grass. There will a giant pool party for the kids the weekend after school lets out and I'm looking forward to meeting some of the other parents and neighbors.

Go Read

If you haven't already read The Box Car Kid's Blog - One Family's Reflections on Being Part of the Great Recession, I suggest you go give it a look.

Panic at the Disco

Have you ever gotten up in the middle of the night to pee and found a giant black spider on the toilet, then just pushed it in with paper and flushed it, only to be paranoid about spiders on the seat every time you go for days and days after, diligently checking the seat each time, until one day you forget but almost give yourself a heart attack when you remember that you didn't check that last time just before you sat and felt something brush lightly up against you and then you almost peed on yourself trying to see what it was only to discover it was your own long dark strand of hair floating to the floor? Me neither, that never happens to me... very often.

33, 30, 18

I'm on week 33, I've gained about 30 pounds and I don't own any clothes that are comfortable any more. I have maternity things in the sizes I need, I just have an aversion to clothes, so I've taken to wearing togas around the house and just not going anywhere. This is also conducive to the 18 hours of sleep I need in a day. Everyone is healthy and good. I'd tell you more, but I really rather go lay down.

One Sick Kid

One sick kid: I want to watch Matilda again.

Me: No, If i'm gonna sit here with you, lets watch something new.

One sick kid: aaaauaauuu

Me: I know... Hairspray

One sick kid: I don't like it.

Me: Why not?

One sick kid: I don't like things that are sprayish.

-We are watching Little Shop of Horrors

Hard Explanations

There are times when one has to explain things to a child that are difficult. Sometimes it's because I haven't pinned down my own beliefs on the subject like when asked about God and Angels and Ghosts. Sometimes it's because I'm trying to determine on the spot how much information is appropriate like explaining when it's ok to kiss a boy and beyond. Sometimes it's just because it's hard to admit the world we live in isn't fair like when I have to explain the Arizona immigration laws to the kid after she's heard bits of a news story on NPR.

Let me tell you, that last one was the hardest of them all so far. I've practiced what to say in the other instances, discussed it with my husband other parents and even bought books to help me explain, but it is hard to explain bigotry to a kid when the question presented over and over is "Why?" or the heart breaking "Didn't they learn about Doctor King in Kindergarten?" I took a minute to think about it from different angles to see if there was a way to explain just the facts. I want her to form a fair opinion, one not too swayed by my personal beliefs and there is no way to explain what is happening in AZ to a six year old that doesn't involve the words "mean," "unfair," and "skin color." She's outraged and I am glad.

I hope next time the question is easier, like why do little kids get cancer, or something like that.

Image from Guanabee

17 Women Rocking the Classic Men's Wear

You've likely already read about high school senior, Ceara Sturgis, who was cut out of her yearbook because she wore a tuxedo (and happened to be gay) in her senior picture. I'm going to spare you the rant. I bet you can form your own. Instead I will give you, in addition to Ceara, sixteen more amazing women dressed in men's suits & tuxedos from this year.

Sarah Jessica Parker in the movie Sex and the City II

Houston Roller Derby's own Bayou City Bosses

and singer Janelle Monae in her video for Tightrope feat Big Boi

Double Check Your Head

I love love love this! http://www.doublecheckyourhead.com/ Go get some.

PS3 Review

A few weeks ago when we went to Comicpalooza, Dan made me sign up at the Gamespot booth to win things. The following Monday I got the call that I had won the grand prize, a Play Station 3. Since I don't really play video games I wanted to sell it, they rest of my family gasped in horror. They've wanted one for some time but we just couldn't justify the expenditure. It came with some games and lots of stuff that said PS3 on it, t-shirts and pens and bags and things. It's a really nice prize. We kept it.

I was surprised at the amount of games available for children. So far we've found 3. Yes, only three; The Lego games, Little Big Planet, and Flower. This morning Dan downloaded Flower for Ella and it's a floaty game, where you fly around the countryside like in a dream and your whirlwind picks up flower pedals as you go. The music is ambient and intensely relaxing and there is no antagonist. I like it, the kid likes it and even Dan said it's really relaxing to play. So the final verdict is PS3 should make more kid's games, they're missing a giant market, I'd drop money like crazy on educational games. And to the makers of Flower - great job, more please.

Happy Earth Day, Nature Ran Into My Bedroom

Last Saturday as I walked out the door, with 40 things balanced in my arms and my keys in my hand, a very small lizard ran through the door, around the corner into my bedroom. Our mattresses just sits on the floor eliminating any room for monsters underneath. The lizard went between the bed and the wall. I made Dan promise to move everything and chase it back out of the house. Later, he said he couldn't find it.

This Smiling Boy

My Breech baby boy at thirty weeks

The Lost Six Hours aka Welcome to the World Kid!

I stopped by the labor and delivery floor of the hospital connected to my OB's office today. A very nice nurse was kind enough to give me a quick tour and answer some questions. The good news was most of my labor options are up to me and my OB, like being able to eat or drink during labor, getting into the jacuzzi, or what monitoring I'd prefer. That was all great news as I vetted my new doctor with great care and I adore her. The not so good news was what happens to baby boy after being born at this hospital. I had the following eye opening conversation with the very nice nurse.

Nurse: We allow* the baby to stay in the room with you for about an hour and then we take him over to the nursery for four to six hours, for his first bath and tests while you recover.

Me: What do they do that takes four to six hours?

Nurse: We do a vitamin K injection and the Hepatitis B vaccine, PKU Screen and eye ointment, all according to your pediatrician's orders of course. Then we give baby a bath and put baby under the heat lamps to warm up and regulate body temperature. You know clean baby up, put a little hat on and blanket before bringing baby back.

Me: Wait, the nurses give the baby his first bath? Why not the parents?

Nurse: Well sometimes you can ask the nurses on staff and they'll let you participate**, otherwise you or a family member can certainly come down and watch through the glass.

Me: So, why does the baby need to have his body temperature regulated?

Nurse: After the bath they are cold and are wet and so we put them in the warmer to get their body temperatures back up. It can sometimes take a few hours.

Me: Why don't they do that in the room with me if there's a warmer in each room or better yet, why don't they just put the baby on me so I can warm him up while nursing?

Nurse: Well, again it depends on who's on that day, you can certainly ask them, but most of the time you really need some time to recover and we need to monitor the baby closely, so it's best to let the nurses do their job***.

Me: Ok, how about giving the baby a bottle? Last time the hospital did it despite my instructions not to. I plan to breast feed.

Nurse: Well, if the baby's blood sugars are low, we do give a bottle of sugar water to get them back up to speed.

Me: But if you let the mother nurse instead of making the baby wait for six hours won't that automatically keep the blood sugars up?

Nurse: Well, you know usually your milk doesn't come in for a few days.****

Me: Ok, thanks, I think those are all the questions I needed answered.

*Yes, she really used the word "allow" and it made me bristle.

** Again with the "letting" and "allowing"! While we leave the treatment of my newborn son and my participation or non-participation of his first moments all up to the random chance of who's on call and what mood she's in. I may get to watch through the glass. Good grief.

***In other words, you are asking hard questions and now I must make you feel silly so you'll shut up.

****I guess this nurse never heard of Colostrum.

So to paraphrase the whole conversation, she told me "Your baby will be born and whisked away for our nurses to wash off all the natural protective moisturizer he's born with, under cool water, perform a shit load of unnecessary tests and vaccines that one should actually wait to do and then plop him alone under a heat lamp like a Chicken McNugget while we don't feed him. After a few hours we'll give him a bottle of sugar water to correct the starvation we just imposed, totally derailing your efforts to breast feed. But he'll be fashion forward in a cute knitted hat, shiny clean and you should be all rested up in six hours!"

I will tour a different hospital next week.

***

I found this amazing resource GivingBirthNaturally.com that helped me learn about the mystery of this lost six hours. These are the things they do not tell you in the hospital birthing class.

Super Paste Please

Why do toothpaste manufacturers make all the different kinds they do? Does anyone actually want toothpaste that whitens but doesn't get rid or tartar, or that tastes extra minty and strengthens enamel to prevents sensitivity but doesn't get the coffee off? Just mix it all up into one batch already and sell me the good toothpaste that does it all. I don't want to have to prioritize my tooth cleansing needs. Please, I have more important things to think about, like which show I will DVR and which show I will watch live on a Thursday night.

Courage Mom

Free Range Kids has become one of my daily reads these days. As I confront my own paranoia about moving from tiny town where everyone knows your name to giant city where nobody does, it's been a struggle to let the kid assert her independence. I'm turning to the blog for support. It's written by the lady who let her 9 year old ride the subway, maybe you saw her when they called her the worst mom in America. She's not, she's the bravest mom in America maybe.

I'm doing my best to let the kid run around and play without and my ever watchful eye three feet from her and a small and simple toy I requested for Christmas has allowed me to do it. Walkie Talkies. This way when she scrapes her knee she can radio me to come get her, or when I get the overwhelming feeling she may be following a clown down into the sewer to get a balloon I can radio her and make sure she isn't.

As she gets older I need to remember the things I did when I was young. Waiting at the bus stop alone. A walk to the local dime store for candy. Unfettered time on my bike on my own block. The freedom to knock on the door of a new neighbor and say "Do you have kids? Can they come out and play" These are not unreasonable things. The fact is most kidnapped children are taken by family members and or someone they know. The most dangerous thing she does every day is riding in the car with me. I just have to look at the numbers.

And I am a super mom, but I'm not Super Mom, I can't prevent every knee scrape, every hurt feeling and every bruise, nor should I. I can't function with a child hanging onto my leg every moment and she can't grow while hanging on. I don't have the energy to play as much as she does, she needs to find her own way, her own playmates and her own life. Yes, at six. Because I am here for checkers, or to get the gum out of her hair and the occasional hipppity hop scotch game, but baby I am too big to climb that tree without a proper ladder.

I Heart Bossy Women

I'm not skating this season. After July, I still have to wait six weeks until I can get back on skates and at a best case scenario that gets me up and going right at the end of the 2010 season. As a plus is gives the few off-ish months to get conditioned and literally back up to speed before the 2011 season. This has not stopped my team from including me in absolutely everything we do.

I'm not sure they know how much of a difference it makes to someone who just moved here and doesn't know a soul, to instantly treat them as family. I wasn't sure how I felt about it myself, until last night during a giant team hug my co-captain said a few words and I had turn my attention from having my arms around these wonderfully sweaty women to the crazy shoelaces in the skates gathered around my feet, to keep from getting all choked up and crying. (I know, not very tough - what do ya want I got hormones!) Let me say this, these women have made the move easier and better than I ever could've imagined.

Itawamba Agricultural High School's Parents Blow it Big Time

Itawamba Agricultural High School in Fulton, Mississippi has parents of seniors who just blew it big time, teaching their kids it's ok to be a bigot by holding a secret prom.

I realize the tough decisions that need to be made as a parent when organizing a party and inviting kids from school. Do you invite just boys? Just Girls? The whole class? Does a party of 20 kids even fit where you are planning it? Can your pocket book stretch that far? Eventually, even I threw my hands up and said, the kid can invite six friends and they will just have to not mention to the other 14 that they got an invite. Then there was a long hard talk about not gloating and why we couldn't invite everyone and how to handle any possible hurt feelings. We even practiced what to say. This we did in Kindergarten. Kindergarten! And I tried my hardest to make is easy and fair for my daughter as well as the kids in her class. But can you imagine if we'd invited 17 of the 20 leaving three out because of the way they were born? How about if it were a few hundred kids but not the seven who were either mentally challenged or homosexual?

Wow Itawamba parents, just wow! Nothing like teaching your young adults sanctioned public bigotry at one of the most impressionable times in their lives. Way to clear an ethical path to joining the KKK. Go Indians!

***

Update: from Feministing.com "Well, we're not all so bad. My name is Izzy Pellegrine and I'm a founding member of the Mississippi Safe Schools Coalition, a group that has been working for two years to promote LGBT student rights in MS. MSSC has been working with Constance for months to help organize her fellow students and educate members of her community. We're hosting our annual Second Chance Prom in her city and opening it up to all young people in the state. (And this is no seven person event!!) Check us out at www.mssafeschools.org"

5 Villainous Things I'd like to To Shout

5. Ha ha! I have you now!

4. Ready the Laser of Silly Walk!

3. Mere mortals!

2. Release the Kraken!*

1. Silence!

* 9:32 Update - After seeing the remake of Clash of the Titans**, I strike #2 and reserve the spot for later date.***

** 9:33 Review of the new Clash of the Titans - if the entire dialogue could be removed from this movie it would be better off.

*** 10:35 Update - I would like to announce #2 Release the Phil McKraken!

These Fairies Do Wear Boots

Yesterday, just after loading the groceries into the trunk, I heard Ella yell out in a slight panic "I lost my tooth!" followed by crying. I gave her a paper napkin from the glove compartment and found her tooth on the floor. As the crying subsided we talked about growing up and the tooth fairy and biology. It felt momentous.

A friend asked me if a kid lived on an island and never heard of the fairy, if they would inherently know that something magical just happened. I said I bet there would be some sort of right of passage and today I looked it up and read about all the things people do with baby teeth. Turns out it is a right of passage in a lot pf places and I read a great deal about the tooth mouse but I got the biggest kick out of reading the first tooth fairies of a sort were vikings.

"Cultural historians say that superstition has always surrounded teeth and these valuable tokens have been used to ward off witches and demons in the past. Vikings were even supposed to give children a "tooth fee" for using children's teeth."

the Wimpiest Cops in the World

This morning when I read that the courts ruled cops were justified in tasering a 7 month pregnant woman for speeding while bringing her son to school, I honestly thought it was an April Fools joke, so I googled it and sorry folks - nope. Apparently the officers (yes, there were THREE) felt threatened. I have to wonder what what kind of wimpy ass cops couldn't handle giving a speeding ticket at 8:30 in the morning, in front of the grade school, without getting out weapons?

Dear Sgt. Steven Daman, Officer Juan Ornelas and Officer Donald Jones of Seattle, I hope you google yourselves and see that I think you are pathetic, wimpy excuses for protectors of the public. I hope your coworkers never let you live this down.

My Babies

Comicpalooza Houston 2010

Yesterday we attended Comicpalooza 2010 in Houston. It's the third year for the convention and it was at brown Convention Center which I was very impressed with. the convention was small, with a 10,000 square foot dealer area, a nice little art show and several side rooms and theatre's filled with games, horror movie production workshops, and comic book how toos. The big celebrity of the day was Bruce Campbell who's Q&A session we attended, he's a very funny guy and according to the pal that went with us, a snappy dresser.

We saw the usual fan-boys in costume, ghost busters, belly dancers, actors that played Wookies (yay!), steam punk enthusiasts and goth chicks with hello kitty backpacks. I did see a few new things. Houston Roller Derby had a booth and the skatey ladies said we made lots of new friends at the convention. I saw one booth called Curious Specimens who sold skeletal fairy specimens in jars. If I still had a library, I'd want one to put it in.

We were also lucky enough to attend a sample of the Intergalactic Nemesis Live Action Graphic Novel Show in which the comic book is projected into the movie screen while the actors do the voices, folio and music right in front of the screen, old timey radio program style. It was super fun to watch the actors do multiple voices as well as the genius of the foley artist and his box of Macaroni and Cheese. The story was interesting with it's 1930s sci-fi flare and I understand they plan to bring the show in full to Houston next year and it's likely we'll attend. I bought a toy for baby boy, the first I've attained. It's a yellow amoeba. Ella and I thought it looked fun for a baby to chew on.

Lastly the convention hired some musicians and set them up in an adjacent ballroom. All afternoon we heard a DJ spinning techno thumping through the wall enticing the kid to go in and sample the dancey goodness. There was a lone rave kid in there dressed in steam punk gear, goggles and all spinning LED bulbs all afternoon too, which just egged on the kid. After ten minutes of watching him she could stand it no longer and had to dance. She jumped up and let loose with limbs flyin' and feet moving. She could've danced all day and I spent a good few hours in there sitting in a chair on the side trying to let her. Later there was a jungle band called Dead P.A. dressed in a Star Wars Cantina style complete with blue and red alien go-go dancers. We were pretty sure that drummer was a robot, after witnessing the speed with with he played. In addition to the alien chicks shaking their 6 boobs, the band continued to move the lone steam punk LED spinner, a few old school break dancers and the kid who lost herself completely in the pounding tunes.

So, you know I couldn't watch the kid rave on like a whirling dervish without video...

I was going to have some cheese spread and crackers

"Why is there a purple smiley face in here... ELLA! Don't color in the cheese dip with your markers."

You're Fired

I was talking to a good friend last night and he was saying how exciting things were now that it is warming up and people are getting out and about. I on the other hand am definitely feeling a slow down. After the big trip back to the state line and all the fun stuff I crammed into one week I am ready to nap for the next three months. Time is slowing to a crawl and I just want to get comfortable and snooze. Perhaps it's because of my lack of ability to get comfortable that I feel like I need to sleep all the time. OR it could be the thyroid pills my doc has me on. The same doc I fired yesterday. That's right, I fired my OB at almost 6 months of gestation and found a new one. It started with lost labs, continued with hours of time in the waiting room, grew with unanswered questions about the prescription he put me on, exacerbated by a lack of experience in having a uterus that has pushed out human or empathy for one who has, aggravated by a brief comparison with a dear friend who is only a week behind me in gestation but getting amazing care from my old doctor in IL and culminated with an ultra sound cancelled by a clueless receptionist. I'm excited about the new physician, I see her on Tuesday.

Home

I just returned from a spring break trip to IL. Ella got to see snow, I got to see the Divas play Glass City and our relatives got to see us.

Congratulations to our dear pals who missed seeing us because they were in the hospital welcoming their new daughter into the world - glad everyone is doing well and I have baby clothes for you at Mom's still.

I have photos to upload and stories to tell right after I get caught up on laundry, thank you notes and artwork.

Sick Day

I got to sleep straight through until 11:00 this morning. It was glorious. Ella is home sick and we lounged. When I got up she had taken a small sharpie and drawn monkeys on her leg. She tried to hide it because she thought I would be mad. I wasn't, they're wonderful monkeys. Instead I made her hash browns which was a giant mess. I got a plate and the grater out and washed two potatoes. The first potato was smaller for Ella and I set to work grating when I was almost finished I shifted my leverage catching the side of the plate and flipping the entire thing into the air sending grated potato onto every surface of the kitchen, my hair and the dog while I stood there in fixed disbelief. Then I couldn't stop giggling. I spent the next 15 minutes picking tiny potato bits from everywhere and starting over with the next potato. The hash browns were very yummy. After seeing the monkeys she drew and eating the hash browns I mentioned to Ella doing some belly art. I'd wanted some after looking at all these henna bellies and she got very excited about it. It's what we did with our afternoon. She did such a magnificent job and it was so relaxing, I'm positive I'll ask her to do it again.

List of Good Things

Sunny days

Instant coffee

Cotton clothing

Text messages

Finding your good lipstick after searching for two days

Baby kicks

.50c paperbacks

O'Douls beer flavored soda

Being four minutes early

A free flowing fancy pen

Warm towels fresh out of the dryer

A new wireless internet router

Funny dances

Aloe Vera plants

Naps

Plastic Sucks

"BPA Linked to Asthma Risk in Kids"

There Are Only Four kind of Pregnant Women

According to clothing manufacturers; Small, Medium, Large and Extra Large. I've tried on no less than 25 pair of blue jeans in the last two weeks ranging in price from second hand shop to pregnant lady boutique and have seen lots of ass sag and plumbers crack. I am doomed to wear my jeans with a rubber band on the button for as long as I possibly can. I did find a nice little pair of stretchy leggings but just can't love them enough to wear them every day with a dress of some type. I may not be barefoot and pregnant, but some days I am pantsless. So dear maternity pants manufacturers, I hope all the pants in your personal closet don't quite fit right either.

22 Weeks

On Pregnancy

I haven't really written about it yet because I was just too nervous about it. In the last few weeks I've been getting kicked from the inside out and that has done a lot to reassure me. Whenever I get worried I drink some orange juice and lay down and they they are, the big kicks. I'm craving breakfast all the time, specifically Jimmy Dean pre-cooked microwavable breakfast sausages which I still fry in a pan to get the outside crunchy and orange juice. No, it really doesn't give me the heart burn it should.

In the last two weeks my body doesn't fit into any of my previous warm clothes. I can get my jeans on but can only zip them half way so they must be worn with a long shirt and any shirt I had is busting at the seams, so I've invested in a few pieces and am hoping for the weather to warm up enough for some sun dresses soon as the ones I own all still fit.

We are going to move to a bigger place. I'm not sure if it's going to be another apartment, a townhouse (which I am hoping for) or a house, but this will take place when I am 8 months along. So, if any of you are looking for an excuse to come to Houston, I will feed you like royalty for a week if you come when I need help packing.

I can't stop sleeping. Thank God for Kindergarten.

I quit taking the prenatal vitamins because they make me barf. I should be past the barfing. I started taking two Flintstone vitamins instead. It has all the same things but is chewable and keeps from from having to open my purse at the stop light to hurl into. I told my nurse last week about the change and she said the Flinstones don't contain the DHA. Screw DHA, it makes me barf. I'll just have to read extra books to my baby to make up for the "up to six IQ points" he won't get from the drugs that make me ill. I also read the food that contains DHA naturally is the same food they told me not to eat and sound totally yummy to me Liver and Fish. Next they'll tell me apple peels are cancerous but take this pill to make sure you get enough fiber.

I'm going to have to switch doctors at the last month because of the move. I want to go to the closest hospital and we are looking at places North of Houston. The school district is good, it's closer to our new friends and the skate rink and the housing is magnificent for the price. We'll still be within an hour from the ocean. It'd be like moving from Cherry Valley to Roscoe. We're excited about the move.

It's going to cost us at least $2,500.00 to have this baby. That's our portion, it's also about how much we'll get back in taxes this year. I asked "what if we don't pay it? Do they not let me have the baby?" and the accountant laughed and said I'd just get the doctor on call at the hospital instead. I'm not sure how this is worse, I'll have only known my doctor for four weeks at that point.

We have no idea what we'll do with Ella when I'm in labor. Mom is going to try and come down, but who knows what the timeline will be. Maybe I'll bring Ella with and she and Dan can step out when it get to the last 20 minutes. I want a midwife or a doula, it costs another couple grand for that. Laboring in America sucks.

Gaga

I missed a decade of music. For the last ten years every time I turned the radio on I just bristled and changed the channel to NPR. When we got Sirus in the car I programmed in the 90s station, a few jazz stations, CNN, MSNBC, NPR and a station called Garage wich plays everything from Elvis to Elvis Costello and all the stuff in between (I think it's supposed to be for fellas who are working on their muscles car in the garage.) On Pandora I have a Beastie Boys station, a Wolfgang station for classical, a Duran Duran station and a Gotan Project station who is perhaps the hippest thing I have on there. Unavoidably last week my kid got a glimpse of Lady Gaga with her ear and demanded she hear more. I made a Pandora station for her.

Unexpectedly, it plays all women. Eurythmics, Blondie, Lady Gaga, Aly & AJ, Kate Perry, Lily Allen, Amy Winehouse and I have to admit I don't object. I did nix the Pussy cat Dolls from her station just cause they have some lyrics I'd rather not hear my daughter sing, but really it's a good dancey station. I'm sure listening to my kid's music and booty dancing around the house while vacuuming makes me even less hip than ever. Don't worry, I'll switch it back to the old fogey music when she gets home from school lest I kill it's coolness.

Have you seen this man?

This guy bothers me. I've clicked on the ad two or three times to get a better/bigger picture of him and still can't recall what the ad is for, nor have I seen a bigger picture. It's not natural. Are those his bottom teeth or his top teeth in that weirdly white grin? Is one nostril really bigger than the other? Is it a person or is it a manikin or wax figure of some type?

Yeah, I know the world is falling to pieces out there with unemployment, earthquakes, health insurance, snow storms and Sarah Palin making a run for it but still the weird ad-click dude looms. Really, somebody explain, please.

Exception

Lately I've been trying to respect Ella's privacy in that I don't want to invade her life by telling you stories about when she's ill or posting pictures she'll kill me for later. She's at an age that it seems like it might not be my story to tell anymore. She has her own blog and chooses what she'd like to post on it from her life. However, sometimes someone in your family does something so good, it's impossible to keep to yourself. With that, I now present, eight seconds of bathtub yodeling.

Only Three Branches of the Govt.

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